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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30114942">Dream's Interview with Hell (Did he get the job?)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConscientiousB5/pseuds/ConscientiousB5'>ConscientiousB5</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anger, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, Canon Compliant, Complete, Creeper Hybrid Sam | Awesamdude, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Gross, Hurt, Hurt Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Lots of Angst, Major Character Injury, Masked Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Medical Inaccuracies, Momma Puffy, No seriously it is very gross, Not really though, Only if you squint - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Platonic Relationships, Prisoner Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Protectiveness, Quackity is nuts, Revenge, Slight Canon Divergence, Suffering, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, Temporary Character Death, Torture, Whump, if you don’t like it don’t read, mostly - Freeform, no beta we die like technoblade, slight nsfw implication</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:00:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,111</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30114942</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConscientiousB5/pseuds/ConscientiousB5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An expanded version of Quackity's visit to Dream in prison in his recent lore stream.<br/>Quackity can be far crueler than anyone anticipated, especially Dream.<br/>Or,<br/>Quackity makes use of his pointy tools in not so fun ways on Dream.<br/>Pain and suffering.<br/>Massive trigger warnings for gore; please read tags!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexis | Quackity &amp; Clay | Dream, Alexis | Quackity &amp; Sam | Awesamdude, Alexis | Quackity/Clay | Dream, Cara | CaptainPuffy &amp; Clay | Dream, Cara | CaptainPuffy &amp; Phil Watson, Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo/Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>684</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>(dream smp<3)</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Visit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a work of fiction about c!Quackity and c!Dream.<br/>It is not for the faint of heart; read the tags and understand what you are getting yourself into.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“SAM!” Dream’s third plea for the warden echoes back in his face mockingly.<br/>
“You can scream for Sam all you want, Dream.” Quackity says grimly. Dream paces, unsure of himself and, to his surprise, a little afraid.<br/>
“How…he didn’t– there’s no way– how did you sneak it in?” Dream is barely able to form the question, mind leaping from one thing to the next as he stares at the sword, mounted to the cell wall, and the axe in Quackity’s hand. There is no possible way Quackity simply walked in here armed to the teeth. Which meant Sam allowed him to have those weapons, possibly even gave him them. With this revelation, Dream’s heart gives a sickening lurch. <i>Sam condones whatever Quackity is planning</i>. Despite himself, a feeling of betrayal washes over him. Quackity ignores his question entirely, returning to the cell’s wall to retrieve the sword and its mount.<br/>
“Alright, you know what… there has been enough talking. There’s been enough talking, Dream.” Dream watches as his eyes narrow into a slitted glare akin to that of a serpent. “You’re going to tell me, or we’re going to do this the hard way for as long as I fucking need to do it.” He draws the axe up in his hand, threateningly directing it towards Dream’s very unarmored throat. “Your choice, big man. Which will it be?” Knowing the odds are not in his favor, Dream sets his shoulders and braces his feet in a fighting stance.<br/>
“I will never submit to you, nor will I give you anything you want.”<br/>
Quackity sizes him up, pausing to study Dream’s tense stature. His eyes glint with sick intent, and he lets out a laugh that carries no amusement. “So be it.”<br/>
Quackity, confident in having every possible advantage, leaps at Dream without further warning. Dream lunges away, narrowly avoiding the axe’s wicked blade. In the next breath, Quackity is on him again, and due to the narrow confines, Dream is quickly trapped against a wall with lava on one side and Quackity’s axe on the other. Quackity grins gleefully and stores away his axe. He has no need for it now. He grabs Dream by the throat, fearless in the face of the once terrifying leader of the SMP. He gazes at the white ceramic mask affixed to Dream’s face, and snaps, “Well, this is just unnecessary,” before grabbing it and pulling, snapping the leather ties. He throws it to the side, and Dream inwardly cringes as he hears it shatter against the obsidian. Meeting Dream’s now visible eyes, Quackity continues, “One last chance, my friend. Things get uglier from here. You sure you want to do this the hard way?”<br/>
Dream spits in his face.<br/>
Infuriated, Quackity grips Dream and lifts him off the ground by his neck, simultaneously bruising and choking him. Dream struggles, but with nowhere to move and a lack of strength due to the starvation, courtesy of Sam, he is unable to break free. Quackity pulls him just a little closer and whispers in his ear, “Wrong move.” With a thrust of his shoulder, he slams Dream’s head into the wall. Dream hears a sickening crack, and everything goes black for a moment before blinding pain brands his skull. He gasps but does not cry out. He does not plead. He will never.<br/>
Quackity moves his grip on Dream’s neck to a looser hold on his shoulder and draws his axe out once again, this time pressing it slightly against Dream’s neck in the place his hand has just vacated. Dream tries not to tremble, but even he, as unshakable as he is, cannot stop the slight shudder in his muscles. Adrenaline, he tells himself. Not fear– never fear.<br/>
“Tell me about the book, Dream.” Quackity says, dreadfully calm. Dream says nothing, does not even shake his head for fear of slitting his own throat on the blade. Quackity tightens his grip on Dream’s shoulder, sinking his fingers into the once powerful muscles that lie there. He drags the blade lightly across Dream’s neck and smiles at the ruby red that it frees. Dream grimaces, smelling his own blood. Quackity sighs. “I maintain the fact that I won’t kill you, Dream. You’re even more useless to me dead. So, let’s have a little more fun and see if I can loosen those pretty lips, huh?” He lifts the axe away from Dream’s neck – causing Dream to slouch slightly in relief– and then immediately pushes it forward and upwards, to Dream’s face. A quick, vicious slice, and Dream has a new cut on his bottom lip. It will be another scar, added to the many which Dream already bears. He barely has a breath to acknowledge the fresh taste of blood on his tongue before he is being grabbed again. Quackity, who has stored away his axe, grabs Dream by both shoulders, flinging him to the ground away from the lava wall. Dream groans under his breath at the impact, barely catching himself and stopping his head from snapping back into the ground for the second time, but the pain in the back of his skull intensifies in a concerning manner.<br/>
Quackity plants a metal-heeled boot on his chest, and Dream feels his ribs bending under the pressure. He tenses, trying to move, but finds his body unresponsive. He inwardly curses. A neck injury, likely. Temporary paralysis at best. At worst… he doesn’t finish the thought.<br/>
Quackity grins at him triumphantly, maintaining eye contact as he slowly pulls out a blade. It’s a gleaming netherite short sword. In a way, it’s a blessing, Dream ponders– netherite will hurt less due to the extremely sharp edge. “Take off your shirt.” Quackity says seriously. Dream doesn’t bother to mock him for his poor choice of words; he merely meets Quackity’s gaze with a confidence he doesn’t feel and doesn’t move a muscle. He says nothing. He could not do what Quackity is asking, even if he felt inclined to do so. The numbness in his limbs still remains, heavy and insistent.<br/>
Quackity snarls, losing patience, and moves his foot off Dream before slicing downwards with the blade– a quick, precise cut that rends the fabric of Dream’s ratty prison shirt in half. A slight line of blood beads up beneath the slice. Quackity kneels beside Dream, pushing aside the shirt halves and exposing Dream’s scar-ridden chest. Dream looks away, fixing his gaze on the crying obsidian wall to his right. If Quackity notices, he offers no indication. He laughs, cold and empty, and begins cutting.<br/>
Time drags by in a bloody haze. Dream feels every cut keenly; the one spanning from his collarbone to his stomach, the ones gliding across his ribs, the ones along the sides of his abdomen, and the particularly serious one that nearly slices him in half– a bloody line drawn from his shoulder to hip. Despite the multitudes of cuts, none are fatal. Quackity is careful and calculated with each slice, avoiding arteries and never going too deep. The hot air from the lava brushes against each fresh wound; the soot and fire intensify the throbbing. Dream shivers against the feeling of crimson liquid sliding down his body’s curves. At some point, his arms become free to move again, but he is weakened by blood loss and no longer cares enough to move.<br/>
Eventually, Quackity grows bored of carving up his new canvas. Dream’s lack of reaction, unfortunately, inspires him to take more drastic measures. Time’s relentless drag pauses when Quackity grips Dream’s left arm by the elbow, twisting it around and onto his chest so the fleshy back side is facing up. Quackity grips the soft skin there, pinching it tightly and <i> pulling </i>. Dream mutters a curse under his breath as the movement pulls on other cuts along his pectorals and ribs. Quackity continues to tug on the skin, pulling it farther from the arm than it should be. He lifts the sword to the skin, and all at once, Dream realizes his plan. With a clench of his jaw, he barely stops himself from pleading for Quackity to stop. Quackity presses the blade against the flesh ever so slowly, almost gently, and tears come to Dream’s eyes as the skin begins to spilt against the blade. The weapon slides deeper, rending flesh as it goes. Quackity keeps his grip, pulling the skin tighter against that razor sharp edge. A scream builds in Dream’s throat, choking him. When Quackity’s grip on the blade slips slightly due to the slick blood, causing the blade to jerk upwards and sever the piece of skin entirely, Dream breaks. He screams, sharp and agonized. Quackity freezes, and Dream instantly curses himself. Quackity thinks he has won something. With a sickening squelch, he drops the inch or two long piece of skin onto the floor and leans in close. Dream pants, wild-eyed.<br/>
“Something to say there?” Quackity says, thinking he has made some sort of progress in regard to getting information from Dream. Dream bares his teeth in a bloodied snarl.<br/>
“Fuck. You."<br/>
“Okay.”<br/>
Quackity leans back and again lifts the sword to Dream’s arm, which is now bleeding profusely. He grips the mangled flesh tightly in his left hand, dragging an agonized cry from Dream. This time, he does not pause at the sound and merely presses the blade against the skin. Once again, he uses slow, continuous pressure to slowly part the skin in the most painful way possible. As he carries on, Dream does his best to look away and not acknowledge the situation, despite the frequent cries it wrings from him. Eventually, because of the pain and adrenaline, he fades into his thoughts and loses sight of the world around him.<br/>
He walks through his past memories– the good ones. Warm days spent dashing through fields, chasing his brothers. Loud, free laughter echoes across the sloping hills. They fight, but they love each other unconditionally. And as the sun sets on another day, they huddle together and talk about their future dreams and aspirations by a warm fire. They are young, and naive, and Dream misses this version of himself. Dream wonders, distantly, as he looks upon the memory, where he went so wrong.<br/>
A new, startling pain launches him out of his memories. His face stings with the echo of a slap. He blinks blearily at Quackity as his eyes refocus. “No zoning out, my friend.” Quackity says with a smile, but Dream senses rage boiling beneath the surface. He won’t be getting any more reprieves.<br/>
True to his word, Quackity does not once let Dream space out again to try to escape the agony. Each time the pain threatens to overwhelm Dream and the darkness starts to creep in, Quackity pauses and slaps him awake again. Dream’s eyes water as he pants and occasionally makes embarrassing whimpering sounds, but he never begs– even as Quackity severs three more pieces of flesh from the back of his arm, all about equal size.<br/>
Pausing after the third chunk of meat lands on the floor (the fourth overall), Quackity grimaces at the carnage he has wrought and seems to notice a glaring problem. “Oh. You’re going to bleed out.” Dream winces. He had been hoping that Quackity wouldn’t notice and that death might claim him at some point. Quackity sighs, as if Dream’s bleeding out is an annoying inconvenience. He tears off a piece of Dream’s shredded clothes and uses it to wrap Dream’s injured arm. “There you go, buddy.” He smiles, setting Dream’s injured arm on the ground, and gives Dream’s shoulder a hearty slap, as if they are friends. Dream curses out loud, flinching away from the sudden pain. He glares and once again tries to shift his ruined body, but it is hopeless. His body is in too much pain to consider moving, and he has nowhere to run to anyway. There is no escaping.<br/>
A feeling of irony tickles the back of his mind, but he cannot think clearly enough to grasp it.<br/>
Quackity sighs, staring down at Dream’s limp body. “I hoped you’d break on day one, but I am a man of my word. We are done for today, but I will be back in exactly twenty-four hours. You don’t need a clock anymore; you can set your time to that promise.” Bloodied and annoyed, Quackity finally rises to his feet and steps away from Dream. Dream knows he should not relax at all, but he does. His body slumps inwards, mental shields cracking for half a moment.<br/>
Quackity sees it. He lifts his boot-clad heel and slams it onto Dream’s injured arm with no hesitation. Dream is powerless to stop the blood-curdling scream that wrenches itself from his lips as bone shatters under Quackity’s iron heel.<br/>
Quackity is unbothered. “I’ll see you tomorrow. You should reconsider your stance while I’m away.”<br/>
He calls out to Sam, yelling to be let out. Dream tries to not notice how quickly he is released and what that means about Sam’s proximity during the “session.”<br/>
Dream remains on the floor, unable to move. He can barely breathe through his body’s torment; every slight shift of his body causes a fresh wave of agony to crest. He drags in a breath, preparing himself for the searing pain sure to follow, and twists his neck to the side to view his arm. He gasps, both in horror and pain. Blood seeps from the poorly bandaged upper arm, which is also deformed due to the deep wounds, and the lower half has pieces of bone jutting out in several places, especially near the elbow and wrist. Definitely a compound fracture. Dream swallows. He has been injured and has experienced a lot of pain before, but never has he been hurt by someone intending to inflict pain. He has no idea where to even start on mending himself– or if he is even capable of doing so. Ultimately, he decides he cannot move, and he eventually passes out from exhaustion.</p><p><b> Sam POV </b><br/>
“SAM!” The third muffled plea echoes past the barrier of lava. Sam stares blankly back.<br/>
He hadn’t wanted to do it. He had never wanted to hurt anyone. He had wanted peace and safety in the SMP. But after what had happened to Tommy, his morals had become rather twisted. So as Dream pleads for his aid, he turns his back and walks away.<br/>
He settles himself in a warden’s room just off the main cell’s entrance room, picking at his nails with a dagger as he awaited Quackity’s return. Silence presses in on him; even the lava is silent back here.<br/>
He has almost forgotten what he had endorsed and what was happening to his prisoner when a scream splits the silence. He is immediately alert, and he leaps up, ready to save whoever has shrieked with such torment– he freezes.<br/>
No.<br/>
It was Dream’s cry, and Dream deserves no mercy.<br/>
Sam sits back down.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Friendly Face</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Puffy finally decides to make her visit to Dream, and she finds him in an unfortunate state.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b> Less than twenty-four hours later </b> </p>
<p>Captain Puffy walks towards the prison with a grim destination in mind. It’s been quiet on the server lately, ever since Tommy’s return. A little too quiet. She has decided that she’s been putting off seeing Dream for too long– and to her knowledge, no one has visited him in a while. In fact, she has not heard anyone talk about him in a long time.<br/>
She cares about him still, despite the things he had done. Deeply, she believes he is not a monster. Everyone on this server had been through so much at his hands, though…<br/>
She snaps out of her thoughts after realizing that this very internal debate was what had prevented her from visiting him for so long. She has to break out of it and do what must be done; she needs to see for herself if he had really become the monster Sam and Tommy claim him to be.</p>
<p>As she approached the prison, she sent a message via communicator letting Sam know she was there to visit. He merely answered, “On my way.”<br/>
After a few moments of waiting, during which she pondered the odd beauty of the obsidian monstrosity in front of her, Sam arrives. His face is held in its usual grave expression, but for some reason, he feels even more tense than usual. He speaks softly, “Hey, Puffy…” She narrows her eyes in suspicion but chooses to ignore his strange tone.<br/>
“I’m here to visit him, will you let me in?” </p>
<p>Sam hesitates for a beat too long. </p>
<p>“Sam?”</p>
<p>He glances away. “I don’t think the prisoner is up for a visit today.” </p>
<p>“Why not?”</p>
<p>“He’s… sleeping.” Sam is obviously stressed and even more obviously lying.</p>
<p>“Sleeping? I’ll just wake him up. I’m sure he won’t mind; it’s been a while since he’s had a visitor.” </p>
<p>“Uh…” Sam trails off, not meeting her eyes.</p>
<p>“Sam. What is going on?”</p>
<p>“Nothing! I just… I don’t want anyone else to be in danger. Dream’s unhinged. He could hurt you like…like Tommy.” Sam stutters in his hurry to say the last half of the sentence. Puffy feels her heart soften and disregards her earlier concerns.</p>
<p>“Sam, I’m very sorry about what he did. But I know he wouldn’t hurt me. He respects me, unlike Tommy. And I have unfinished business with him that I…” She pauses, unsure of how to continue. “I just need to resolve some things. I need to do this. So, I’ll take the low risk of him hurting me. I need to see him, Sam. Please.” She says the last word with conviction, meeting Sam’s eyes. He swears softly under his breath.</p>
<p>“Okay.”</p>
<p>Sam guides her into and through the prison, still acting a little weird all the while. Puffy assumes his mood is because of the reasons he said before and does not consider it further.</p>
<p>Finally, they arrive at the main holding cell’s wall of lava. Sam hesitates again. “Are you sure? You can still leave; he won’t even know you were ever here.” Puffy is nodding before he even finishes his sentence. </p>
<p>“I’m certain. Drop the lava, please.” Sam nods in resignation and pulls a lever, causing the wall of lava to begin to fall. </p>
<p>Puffy squints to see into the cell as the lava drains away into the floor. At first, it seems empty aside from the few pieces of furniture, but then she spots what appears to be a sleeping body. She frowns, about to question Sam, but he speaks first, “Follow the bridge when it goes.” She stumbles into action, checking her footing as the bridge moves suddenly. It inches closer to the cell, and with each jolt forwards, the body lying in the cell becomes clearer. </p>
<p>With growing horror, Puffy notices what appears to be blood beneath him. She cannot see his face as his head is turned away from her, but she can see more redness coating his chest, which, oddly, seems to be unclothed. The bridge settles against the edge of the cell, and she steps off tentatively. It immediately retracts, lava beginning to fall instantaneously. She glances behind herself to see Sam is already gone.  As she faces forwards once more, she notices a smell of metal tinging the air. Blood, she knows. She moves towards Dream as the barrier between her side of the cell and his drops. Her stomach twists in horror as the dim light reveals the damage on him.<br/>
Gashes, dozens of them, cover nearly every inch of his torso. The blood is mostly dried looking, but some is still fresh and moves with each shallow breath of Dream’s chest. A ring of purple and blue bruises encircles his neck, in the shape of what appears to be a handprint. The most horrific of the injuries, however, is Dream’s left arm. The upper half has a makeshift bandage of some sort of cloth, but it is hopelessly drenched in blood anyway. Something about the shape of the arm looks wrong too, like it is missing pieces. The bottom half is even worse– a twisted, mangled mess of bloody torn skin and protruding bone. It looks horribly painful.</p>
<p>Puffy swallows. She has no idea what to do, but she decides to start by waking him up. She has no idea if he is sleeping or unconscious from blood loss. Because he did not wake up at the sound of the bridge, she is willing to bet the latter is true.</p>
<p>“Dream?” </p>
<p>No answer. He doesn’t even shift.</p>
<p>She tries calling his name a few more times, but nothing gets a response from him. He remains still and silent, and Puffy starts to panic.</p>
<p>Knowing it will likely cause him more pain, she kneels beside him and grabs him by the uninjured shoulder in one of the very few spots without an injury. She shakes him as she yells in his ear, “Wake <b>up</b>, Dream!” His chest lifts in a gasp, and he jerks back from her hand. Wide, bloodshot green eyes meet hers. They shine only with pain and no recognition. He starts shaking frantically. </p>
<p>“Nononono, it hasn’t been a day– you–you were just here!” Dream’s voice is full of pain and something Puffy had never heard from him– fear. True fear. She sets aside her shock to try to comfort him.</p>
<p>“No, Dream, it’s me. It’s Puffy. I won’t hurt you.” She tries to reason with him, but it’s as if he cannot hear her at all. He is breathing fast, too fast, and he has reopened many wounds in his panic, including a nasty gash on his lower lip. She tries to reach out to him again, but he lurches away once more, at the cost of causing himself more pain. He lets out a whimper, though, of pain or fear, Puffy is not sure. Again, it is a sound she has never heard nor expected to ever hear from him. He is a fearless leader, confident in himself and his strength. He doesn’t get hurt; he doesn’t fear anyone. </p>
<p>What could have possibly happened to him to cause such a drastic change?</p>
<p>She raises her hands in surrender, leaning back from Dream in an attempt to calm him, but it doesn’t seem to help much.</p>
<p>Two things occur to her then– one, Dream needs medical attention soon. None of his injuries are fatal-looking, but with the sheer amount of them, infection is highly likely. Not to mention his arm, which is an entirely different problem. Secondly, she realizes these injuries, which were obviously inflicted by another person, should not have been able to happen at all. She had not been allowed to carry so much as food into the cell with her, so how was a weapon capable of doing such damage allowed in? </p>
<p>The answer becomes starkly clear. Sam, enraged by Dream’s actions against Tommy, must have done this to Dream. Suddenly, the reason why Sam was hesitant to let her see Dream becomes clear.</p>
<p>“SAM!” Puffy hollers, suddenly furious at the kind-hearted warden. She winces as Dream flinches back in response to her shout, something distant passing over his face.</p>
<p>“Yes?” Sam’s voice neutrally answers over the intercoms. </p>
<p>“How could you do this to Dream, Sam? How twisted are you?! I know he did some bad things, but no one deserves this. No one.” Dream is locked in prison, but he is also under Sam’s protection. He should never have been in danger, let alone tortured as it appears he was. </p>
<p>“I did not lay a hand on Dream.” Sam’s response is cold.</p>
<p>“Oh, so you just laid a knife or something of the like on him instead?”</p>
<p>“No. I brought no harm to Dream.” His tone remains cold, but it also sounds genuine, as far as Puffy can tell. </p>
<p>“Then who did? You had to have let them in. This is not an accident. Clearly, someone came in here with the intention of hurting Dream– and they succeeded.” She glances at Dream, who is still staring at her and trembling.</p>
<p>“Yes, but I will not say who. Dream took the hard path. He was asked to speak, and he chose not to.”</p>
<p>“Are you saying you condone his being tortured?”</p>
<p>Sam remains silent.</p>
<p>She snarls in frustration. “Fine. At least give me medical supplies. He needs bandages and antiseptics, at a minimum.”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“What? He might die!”</p>
<p>“No items are allowed in the main cell, aside from the ones already within it.” As Sam’s words sound in her ears, Puffy’s vision goes red with fury.</p>
<p>“<b>Are you serious</b>? Clearly, <b>some</b> things are allowed in, since Dream is covered in wounds obviously from a blade, not a fist!”</p>
<p>“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Sam’s voice is devoid of emotion. “Call for me when you wish to leave the cell.” Before she can shout back, the intercom clicks off with a definitive <i>beep</i>. </p>
<p>Puffy drags her hands over her face in frustration, avoiding screaming for Dream’s sake. He’s in the same place, still looking afraid but not shaking as much. </p>
<p>“Hey,” she says softly, “I’m not going to hurt you. Can you tell me what happened?” Dream blinks at her and then shakes his head a little. He grimaces immediately, like the slight motion hurt his neck. Puffy frowns. She had not seen any blood on his head, aside from the split lip. She asks, “Can I come to see to your wounds? I don’t have medicine, but I can try to clean them out the best I can.” Dream considers for a moment before giving an almost imperceptible nod of his head. Puffy scoots back over to his side. He is still on his back, but he has propped himself up with his good elbow. She notices there is a horrible streak of blood across the floor from when he moved to escape her earlier. Now closer to him, Puffy can see the extent of his wounds. After he nods his permission to her request, she lifts a hand to the back of his head and feels around for injuries. There is a thick knot on the back of his skull, just above where his neck connects, and it’s covered in dried blood. Dream makes a distressed sound when her fingers push through his hair and lightly touch the skin around the wound. She frowns in worry, but she can’t think of any way to help with the injury, so she moves onto his arm and other injuries in hopes of giving Dream some relief. Puffy takes off her cloak and gets to work.</p>
<p>After a lot of cleaning using torn pieces of Puffy’s cloak and the cauldron of water, Dream looks slightly less like death. He also seems to have warmed up to her, despite her causing him pain as she cleaned the various wounds and did her best to set his arm’s multiple fractures (that had been particularly hard on them both, and she still is not sure she had done it correctly. What Dream really needs is a doctor). Exhausted, she settles next to him on the cell floor. Dream still has not said who had done this to him or why, and she has not asked again. </p>
<p>To her surprise, Dream starts to move from his place on his back beside her. She is about to chastise him for jostling the injuries again, but she stops when she sees he is moving towards her. He tilts his face, shifting so his head is partially on her one leg, almost in her lap but not quite. They sit like that for a while, comfortable silence wrapping around them.</p>
<p>At some point, hot tears started to soak her pants, and her hand started to stroke Dream’s messy hair soothingly. Still, neither one of them spoke.</p>
<p>Dream broke the silence first with a muffled word Puffy almost misses: “Quackity.”</p>
<p>“What about him?” Puffy questions carefully.</p>
<p>“He… he did this.” Dream pauses between every few words, as if speaking pains him. “He wanted…wanted information on the book. I wouldn’t… give it, so he tried to…to break me.” Horror washes over Puffy at his words. “He’s not… done,” Dream’s voice cracks, sounding weaker with each word, “Coming back…soon.” Puffy opens her mouth to ask him how soon, but the intercom chirps to life. </p>
<p>“Puffy. I think it’s time you go.” </p>
<p>“No, I’m good. You never gave me a time limit on how long I could stay, Sam.”</p>
<p>“You’re leaving now, or I will incarcerate you for violating the contracts you signed.” Puffy does not recall signing any contract that referred to a time limit, but the threat seems genuine enough. She cannot help Dream if she too is locked up. She glances down at him, feeling him start to shake again. From this angle, she can just barely see his green eyes. She had seen him unmasked a few times before now, and his green eyes had always held such life and vibrancy. They seem dull now– lifeless, hopeless, and drained.<br/>
“Don’t leave me.” Dream’s whisper catches her off guard. It is almost a plea, and pleas were something that Dream never does. </p>
<p>“Now, Puffy!” Sam’s voice is no longer emotionless; he is irritated. </p>
<p>Puffy closes her eyes, prays to the heavens that she is making the right decision, and leans down to Dream’s ear. “I’ll come back for you soon, I promise. Just hold on, okay?” With that, she lifts Dream’s head carefully from her leg and rises to her feet unsteadily. </p>
<p>She does not look back at Dream as Sam releases her from the cell, but if she had, she would have seen dread flash in his eyes as the memory of Quackity’s strikingly similar promise resonated in his mind.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you all for the support!. I am aiming for possibly one or two more parts after this one, but I'll see where the story takes me. Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Salvage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Quackity returns for another visit with Dream, and Puffy prepares for a rescue mission.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Trigger warnings for violence/gore/slightly suggestive implications.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Twenty-Four Hours After the First Visit</b>
</p><p>Dream’s eyes snap open to the sound of the bridge moving. His cheek is pressed against cold obsidian, and he’s still on his back in the middle of the cell where Puffy left him. His body screams in synchronized agony as every wound comes alive all at once. The rhythmic clunking of the bridge sets his heart racing. Theoretically, it could be Puffy again, returning as she promised she would, but he feels in his chest that it is not. </p><p>He’s proven correct as he rises onto his good shoulder, the most movement he can manage, and twists to see who is on the bridge. His chest hollows out. A black-haired boy with a beanie and a wicked grin stares back. The boy makes a daring jump, leaping off the bridge into the cell before it even docks. Dream looks blankly past him, to the room on the other side of the lava pit. Sam stands there, and upon feeling Dream’s gaze, he glances over a shoulder. He looks away immediately and pulls a lever, causing the lava to fall again. Dream continues staring ahead, even as the view is cut off and he is trapped in the damned cell with Quackity once more. </p><p>“Hey, Dream!” Quackity says cheerfully, “How was your day? You know, it has been exactly twenty-four hours since I last saw your pretty face. I know you can’t tell because of the whole isolation thing, but I promise it’s true. Down to the minute, I’d wager.” Dream offers him no response; he just looks at the floor. He wants to rise to his feet, wants to challenge Quackity and win. He wants a lot of things, though, and he won’t get any of them, so he remains silent and still. If his silence irritates Quackity, he can’t hear it in his voice. “You know, Dream, it kind of looks like someone cleaned you up. Wanna explain yourself?” </p><p>Quackity sighs at the predictable silence.</p><p> “Could have expected that answer, I guess. Well, anyway, I brought some new things to play with today. Want to see them?” That comment worries Dream deeply enough that he can’t stop himself from glancing up to Quackity. He is met with the gaze of an unhinged man who is high on power he should have never been given. </p><p>“There he is,” Quackity says in a low, unsettling voice. “Missed me?” Dream clenches his jaw and looks away quickly. “Alright. Play hard to get. I’ll just entertain myself.” Quackity comments breezily. Dream still doesn’t look at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Quackity shift, turning away from him, reaching into a pocket and pulling out something thin, metal, and sharp-looking. Since Quackity is no longer staring at Dream, he lifts his gaze slightly to see what Quackity is holding. It looks like a needle, but it’s too thick and is much longer than even a hypodermic needle. Dream swears he can see another one of the objects behind the first one, but Quackity stores them away again before he can get a good look. Humming to himself, Quackity then pulls out what appears to be a flint and steel. He flicks it, igniting a small blue flame. “Hmmm… where to begin…” he trails off absentmindedly, looking over at Dream again, who doesn’t look away. He’s too busy panicking. He has no idea what Quackity is planning to do to him, but his body’s aches melt away suddenly with a rush of adrenaline he gets from seeing the instruments of torture. He can’t take another day like yesterday. </p><p>Logic melts away to terror. </p><p>Dream launches upwards with strength he didn’t know he had, jumping towards the lava wall. Quackity is caught off guard, but he recovers quickly enough, shoving himself in front of Dream’s escape route. Dream panics and turns the opposite way, stupidly giving his back to Quackity in his attempt to get away, to be safe–</p><p>Quackity’s hand grabs his good arm, yanking him to a stop. His body tries to keep moving for a second, but he can’t go far. </p><p>“Seriously? Where do you think you’re going? This cell is like, tiny.” Quackity doesn’t even sound upset. He just sounds amused. Dream struggles and twists, kicking a leg back as forcefully as he can. His heel connects with what feels like a thigh, and Quackity grunts. The grip loosens. Mind clouded with panic, Dream leaps forward eagerly–</p><p>A hand grabs the back of his neck, sinking into the sides of his throat. Dream pulls against it, choking himself, but it is no use. Quackity says nothing this time, but he shoves hard on the back of Dream’s neck, forcing him to his knees. A boot plants itself squarely in the center of Dream’s back and <i>pushes</i>. He groans as he collides with the obsidian floor, feeling something in his chest crack from the force and his injuries reopening again. His injured arm twists to a gruesome angle and is crushed into the ground. It doesn’t hurt that badly yet, but Dream knows when the adrenaline wears off, it won’t be pretty. </p><p>Quackity actually seems annoyed this time. He says nothing, but Dream feels a weight land on his lower back. He curses, struggling, but cannot budge Quackity off. “The hell are you doing?” Dream snarls.</p><p>“You’ll see.” </p><p>Dream is forced to wait as Quackity shuffles around for a moment, settling himself so he is sitting on Dream’s lower back, legs on either side of Dream’s hips to aid in holding him down. Oddly enough, Dream thinks Quackity is facing towards his feet rather than his torso. It becomes evident why he is sitting so strangely when Quackity grabs Dream’s right leg by the calf, lifting it and folding it backwards insistently until he is gripping Dream’s foot. Dream tries to free his leg, but he is in a strange position and doesn’t have the strength to beat Quackity’s efforts. He unlaces and tugs off Dream’s boot. Dream growls, about to ask him what the hell is going on–</p><p>He hears the click of a flint and steel lighting. Dream freezes as warmth caresses his heel. </p><p>“How’s that feel? Warm enough?” Quackity pauses, and Dream feels his weigh shift as he moves, “or do you like it hot?” </p><p>Searing pain touches the center of Dream’s foot. He jerks, mouth opening in a silent gasp, but he refuses to cry out. The initial pain doesn’t fade like he anticipates it will, however. It grows more and more intense, and Dream starts to clench his jaw so hard his teeth ache. He doesn’t want to give Quackity the satisfaction of hearing him scream, but he can smell his own flesh as it burns and melts, and his nerves are overwhelmed with agony so intense it feels cold–</p><p> When Quackity pushes the lighter so the ignited piece is in direct contact with the charring skin of Dream’s foot, he finally lets out a shout of pain, and after that, he can no longer keep silent. </p><p>Quackity continues to scorch the bottom of his foot for some indeterminable amount of time, pausing only once question Dream about the book and once more to start on Dream’s other foot. Dream spends the time gasping and crying out, eyes watering in agony, but he never pleas for mercy or says any words.</p><p>“You’re tougher than I thought you’d be,” Quackity confesses. He’s finally put out the fire and released Dream’s foot from his hold, but he has yet to move from his place on Dream’s back. “To break, I mean. I didn’t think I’d have to pull out all the stops. You still won’t talk, I take it?”</p><p>Dream shakes his head in confirmation and says nothing. A few moments ago, Quackity had taken the flint and steel to an oozing burn wound rather than fresh skin and let it stay there until he said he saw bone. Dream had nearly bitten through his tongue when he had screamed. So, he did not much feel like talking. Breaking is not an option for him, anyway. </p><p>Quackity hums thoughtfully. “I really don’t want to do this next thing to you, Dream…” he continues talking, but Dream tunes him out, drifting into the thought of Puffy’s promise, doubting whether she’ll keep it. </p><p><i>Hey, Puffy,</i> Dream thinks to himself, <i>I’m kind of having a bad day, and I’d like to redeem that promise now…</i></p><p>He tunes back in just in time to hear Quackity say, “…this is your own stupid fault. I’m not even sure I know how to not do permanent damage. I guess we’ll find out the hard way, huh?” </p><p>With that, Quackity moves off him, and before Dream knows what is happening, he rolls Dream onto his back and moves to kneel next to his hip. Quackity presses the edge of a netherite axe against Dream’s stomach. “Try anything and I’ll gut you,” Quackity whispers, as if Dream could go anywhere at this point anyway. Leaving the blade resting against Dream with just enough pressure to draw a little bit of blood from Dream’s bare skin, Quackity pulls out a small, wicked looking knife and a pair of pliers. </p><p>Dream, still unable to speak, merely stares wide-eyed as Quackity smiles at him and climbs onto Dream’s hips. He tosses the axe out of reach. Dream starts to struggle again, not sure what Quackity is doing but definitely not liking the direction things are going. He really does not like the weight on his hips, either. “Settle down, Dream. Don’t get the wrong idea. I just don’t want you moving too much on me. I might cut something important.” Quackity snaps impatiently. He grabs a handful of Dream’s pants near his thigh and tugs hard, yanking up the pant leg until it is most of the way up his thigh. </p><p>He flips the dagger in his free hand, presses it to the exposed thigh, and makes a quick, deep incision. Dream bucks, trying to throw Quackity off, but can’t move him due to his own injuries and general weakness. He throws his head back, tears pricking his eyes in frustration. Quackity sets the dagger aside and presses two fingers to the cut, which was weeping hot blood. He pushes his fingers in, splitting the wound farther apart with disturbing care. Dream screams in the back of his throat, eyes desperately watering. </p><p>He slams his eyes shut as he feels the cold metal of the pliers dig into the wound, sinking in past skin and flesh, deeper–</p><p>Metal scrapes bone, and Quackity giggles. He pulls the pliers back out a little, opens them, and sinks them back in, only to clasp them to the muscle deep in the thigh before sharply yanking them all the way out, pulling pink muscle with it. Dream shrieks.</p><p>Quackity lets out another laugh, more than a little deranged, “Wow! Have a look at that! That’s fucking gross! I can see your muscles, literally!” </p><p>Dream pants through his teeth, chest heaving with nausea as he lifts his head slightly to see the damage Quackity has done. Through the split in his thigh, torn muscle has been pulled up and twisted so it is outside of the skin. Blood leaks freely, but either by chance or careful consideration, it seems Quackity has missed the major veins and arteries of the leg. He won’t bleed out from this. Dream isn’t sure whether to be happy or horribly disappointed about that development. </p><p>“Let’s try it again, shall we?” says Quackity.</p><p>Dream drops his head back to the cold floor in silent defeat.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Puffy POV</b>
</p><p>
  <i>Several Hours After Her Visit to the Prison</i>
</p><p>She has to do something. What is going down in that prison is beyond punishment; it is outright torture. Quackity is playing some kind of sick game with Dream, and for some reason, Sam is aiding him. Puffy has no idea what to make of the entire situation if she is being honest with herself. She has never seen a human being treated in such a horrifying manner. She is not even sure if Dream can be put back together after being so thoroughly broken. Beyond his physical injuries, she is sure something in his mind has been drastically altered. Even in her short time spent with him, that was extremely obvious. Pre-prison Dream never would have damn-near crawled into her lap, desperate for comfort, and cried on her. He had never been an openly affectionate person, and even though she had known he respected her and thought well of her, he never was emotionally open with her. For him to show such a vulnerable side to her… she knew he was not himself anymore.</p><p>She didn’t know what to do to help him, exactly, but she was going to start by recruiting to the cause the kindest souls she could think of: Philza and Ranboo. She knew Ranboo had some odd past relations with Dream, but she hoped his good-heartedness would allow him to set aside his personal issues long enough to help her salvage Dream. She would have preferred more backup, but because of Dream’s history on the server, she wasn’t sure anyone else would be willing to lend a hand, especially without any proof of what she claimed. Techno may be willing to help, but he was always a wild card and she couldn’t count on his aid. </p><p>She trudges through seemingly endless snow, headed for the artic home of Philza and Techno. After she had been thrown out of the prison, she had stopped at her home to recharge and consider her options. The day had been growing late already, and she had considered waiting until dawn to contact help, but then she had remembered Dream’s last whispered words to her, “Don’t leave me.” It was as close to a plea as anything she had ever heard from him, and once she remembered that, she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. So, she packed a bag of food and weapons and began the long and cold journey through the night into the artic. </p><p>As she marches, her mind plays a loop of Dream’s bloodied face and body, his soft sobs that she could barely hear, and the shudders that had wracked his body. Her angry determination swells with each memory.</p><p>She arrives at the small almost-town of several houses just past dawn. She stalks up to the biggest of the houses, which is merrily puffing smoke from its chimney into the frigid air. A feeling of homeyness envelops her as she steps gingerly up the snow-covered steps. She gives the heavy wooden door a few hard raps while she smacks her feet against the porch floor to try to shake off some of the snow. A muffled “hold on” comes from inside, and moments later she hears footsteps approach the door before a sleepy-looking Phil cracks open the door. “Hello,” he says, clearly unsure of why she has come. </p><p>“Hey, Phil. I need to talk to you, urgently.” Puffy says gravely.</p><p>Phil frowns in worry. “I see. Come in, please.”</p><p>He steps aside, welcoming her into the cozy main hall of the home. She unlaces her boots and leaves them on a wool rug by the door as Phil leads her deeper into his abode.<br/>
He offers her a seat by the warm fire in the kitchen, and heads to the counter to make her coffee. He only takes a moment, and he is soon sitting across from her, coffee in hand and one leg crossed over the other knee. He waits patiently for her to speak, never one to waste words. She sighs and begins, telling him of her initial plan to visit Dream and what she found when she was finally let in. She made sure to note how Sam was acting. She then goes on to describe the condition Dream was in when she found him. When she recounts that part, a shadow of fury passes over Phil’s face. Otherwise, he mostly nods in response to her, asking a few questions to clarify things she fails to remember on her own. She finishes her story by recounting what Dream had said to her about Quackity’s being involved and how after he had spoken, Sam had removed her from the prison promptly.</p><p>“So…” says Phil thoughtfully, “you’re asking for my help in rescuing Dream from prison.” It’s not a question; it is clear that is what she is asking, but she nods anyway. He sighs. “Dream and I don’t have as rough a history as others on the server, but I cannot say this clears him for the crimes he has committed. It is, of course, horrible and should not be transpiring, but we can’t just free him.”</p><p>“I’m not asking you to. We just need to get him out of that prison, away from Quackity. Once we heal him, we can figure out the rest from there. I’m telling you, Phil. It’s urgent. He is in bad shape. And another thing to consider is the book. Dream said that was what Quackity wanted information on. So far, Dream hasn’t broken and told him anything, as far as I know, but we really cannot let Quackity have access to that information. If Dream does break…” she trails off, and Philza nods.</p><p>“It could spell the doom of us all.” </p><p>Puffy nods solemnly, waiting for his conclusion. He sighs.</p><p>“Alright. I’ll help you break him out. But only with the agreement that he is not being <i>freed</i>, but rather, taken out of whatever dangerous situation he is in for his protection and ours. Deal?” </p><p>Puffy nodded immediately. “Yes, that is all I want. You’ll understand when you see what I’m talking about.” Philza hums in agreement. She can see his sharp mind working.<br/>
“So, Sam is in on it. I can probably get Ranboo to come along with me for backup. If Quackity is there, I want us to have at least one person more on our side. Techno isn’t around right now, or I would ask him…” He stands up from the table, putting away his empty coffee mug. “I assume we are leaving now?”</p><p>Puffy rises as well, “Yes, it’s as urgent as possible, especially since it takes a bit to get there.” Phil nods and goes to wake Ranboo and inform him of the situation.</p><p>A few moments later, he returns with a slightly disgruntled-looking Ranboo. Each of them carries a pack full of supplies for travel as well as a belt of weapons. “Ready?” Phil asked Puffy.</p><p>“Yeah, let’s do this.” </p><p> </p><p>A while later, they stand outside the prison. Phil has rung the bell, and they are all waiting for Sam to appear. It is just around midmorning, about eight hours after Puffy had initially visited. She silently prays Quackity has not yet returned for Dream again.</p><p>Sam exits the prison, narrowing his eyes when he sees all of them. “What is going on here.”</p><p>Phil, as usual, takes charge. “We understand there is a problem within the prison, and we need to be let in immediately. All of us.”</p><p>If Sam is surprised, he gives no indication as he merely says, “The prisoner is unavailable at this time. I assure you he is safely locked away.”</p><p>“Yes, but he is not safe. So, we will need to check on his health.” Retorts Phil without pause.</p><p>“He is unavailable.”</p><p>“That’s what you said when I came before. You said he was sleeping, but he was actually just unconscious in a pool of blood,” interrupts Puffy. “You’re full of shit, Sam. Let us in or we will get in on our own.” Distantly, she hears Ranboo choke at her description of Dream’s condition, but she keeps her stare locked with Sam’s coal eyes.</p><p>“No.” The word is whispered. “He deserves what he is getting.” Puffy’s eyes, along with Phil’s and Ranboo’s, go wide at the use of the present tense verb. </p><p>“Is Quackity in there with him right now?” asks Phil, deadly calm.</p><p>“Yeah, and I hope Dream’s fucking suffering. He sounded like he was a few minutes ago, when he was screaming his throat raw.” Sam’s face twists into a cruel smile.</p><p>Phil attacks without warning.</p><p>Swift and deadly, he draws his sword and clashes with Sam. The warden seems caught off-guard, ironically, and only manages a few solid swings of his own sword before Phil has his blade against the warden’s throat. “Let us all in safely or I will kill you, hunt you down and kill you again, and again, until you are permanently dead. And then we will blow a <i>fucking</i> whole in that prison and get Dream out anyway.” Phil snarls, teeth bared. Puffy struggles to keep her own face equally ferocious; she is more than a little shocked at Phil’s savagery and vulgarity. However, she knows Phil feels protective of the younger people on the server, and Dream, despite all his achievements, is still significantly younger than Phil– young enough, apparently, to activate Phil’s fatherly instincts.</p><p>Sam swallows hard, neck bleeding a little from the blade against it. “Okay,” he chokes out weakly.</p><p>Phil does not relent his grip on the warden for even a moment, even following the warden through behind-the-scenes stairwells no one else is allowed access to, as he leads them through the prison. Because Puffy had been here before, she monitors carefully to make sure they are not being tricked or led into a trap. </p><p>They get to the wall of lava protecting the main holding cell with no incidents, though Sam seems to be very distressed. He says nothing, however, as he flips the lever to drop the lava. As they wait for it to drain, the strained silence is rent by a sharp cry. It is obvious where it originated from, and even more obvious whose voice it is. Puffy becomes even more tense.</p><p>As the lava drains, their worst fears are revealed– Quackity stands over a recumbent body in the cell. It’s too far to see anything specific, but Puffy swears his clothes are soaked in red and he’s staring at them. </p><p>Finally, the lava melts away entirely, and they all climb onto the bridge. It’s a tight squeeze with their weapons and armor, but they manage. Phil finally releases the warden to allow him to go pull the final lever to send them across the pit. The death threat remains in his eye as he glares at Sam. </p><p>Sam hesitates but finally pulls the lever, sending them across. They shift to face forwards, looking at Quackity. He holds a metal instrument of some kind in one hand and what appears to be pliers in the other. The body’s face becomes clearer; it is certainly Dream, and he’s in far worse shape than when she left him, possibly worse than when she had first seen him in the cell. Bloodstains nearly every inch of his body, and he looks barely conscious. </p><p>“Phil! Puffy! Ranboo! How… nice of you to all come visit.” Quackity says with soured cheer. Worry seeps into his tone.</p><p>The bridge collides with the edge of the cell, but the protective netherite remains raised until the bridge retreats. The wall of lava does not fall, but the netherite drops anyway. Quackity seems surprised, and he opens his mouth to say something, but Phil leaps at him with his sword raised. “STOP!” shouts Quackity, dropping to a crouch beside Dream. He grabs the prisoner’s ankle in one hand and picks up a dagger, shining with blood, in the other. “Stop or I’ll cut the Achilles tendon. It’s unfixable, you know. He’s on his last life, and without a respawn to mend the tendon, he will never walk again!” </p><p>The threat is real, Puffy knows, but she thinks she is faster. She creeps up beside Quackity as he rambles about a deal, eyes fixed on Phil, and in one smooth motion, she swings the butt of her sword’s hilt against his head.</p><p>She isn’t fast enough.</p><p>Quackity sees the blow, knows it is inevitable, and decides to do as much damage as possible on the way out. He rips the dagger across the back of Dream’s heel, severing the tendon just as Puffy’s sword hilt finds its mark. </p><p>Quackity falls silently, slumped in one of the many puddles of blood that are spread across the floor.</p><p>Dream cries out weakly as the vengeful wound’s pain lands, and he turns his head slightly to meet Puffy’s gaze. Exhaustion and pain beyond her understanding linger in his eyes. He chokes out something that vaguely sounds like, “You came,” before his head lulls again. He’s not unconscious, just extremely weakened. As the aftermath of the fight’s silence surrounds them, Puffy continues to just stare at Dream.</p><p> His mouth lulls open slightly, seeping blood, and his eyes are bloodshot and heavy-lidded. His chest rattles with each shallow breath he draws. Fresh bruises from when she last saw him mark his face and neck. His legs are bloodied messes beyond recognition; some spots on his body even appear to be severely burned. Some fingernails are missing, pulled straight from the nailbeds. His body is wreckage, she realizes with dismay, and he is trapped in it. She knows he must be in shock; his eyes are distant. He is awake, but he is not there. </p><p>“Holy shit,” whispers Phil, looking around in increasing shock at the cell and the evidence of the things that had happened within it. He takes in the skeletal, ruined form of the boy in front of him. He furiously wipes at a dampness in his eyes, and setting aside his emotions, starts making orders. Puffy blanks, still staring at Dream’s near-still form. </p><p>She failed him. </p><p>In every way that mattered, she had failed him.</p><p>She failed to check in on him before he was ever sent here, and she failed to protect him even after she knew of the dangers he faced here. </p><p>Shame and guilt twisted in her gut. </p><p>How could she even begin to ask for forgiveness?</p><p><i>I can start by saving him</i>, she tells herself.</p><p>She slowly comes back into her body, faintly catching what is being said around her. Phil is organizing how they will move Dream, who will carry him and who will stay with the carrier, and what they will do with Quackity and Sam. It is decided that Ranboo will carry Dream since he was the closest to Dream’s height and would likely manage it easier. Puffy would stay at his side at all times, and Phil would watch their backs. Quackity would be left in the cell. Sam was to be dealt with at a later time, after a meeting was had. The priority, Phil said, was safely getting Dream out without further injuring him and with as little disruptions to his current injuries as possible. The many layers of prison security would be difficult to get through, Ranboo noted. They planned for it and told Sam they were blowing a hole through the wall. Sam agreed after Phil reminded him of his threat, and he swore he would help them get out as easily as possible. </p><p>Arrangements made, Ranboo kneels beside Dream to decide how to carry him. Bridal style would jostle his injuries the least, they conclude. But when Ranboo tries to slide a hand beneath Dream’s bloodied, bare torso, the prisoner shrieks and flings himself away from the gentle hand. Ranboo jumps in surprise. Dream had been utterly calm since Quackity had been knocked unconscious, and they assumed he had relaxed somewhat. Puffy realized quickly, however, Dream was still not himself. His eyes were still faraway. His reactions were slow and clumsy, purely responses to perceived threats. The logical part of his brain was entirely shut off; he was still in shock.</p><p> She cursed under her breath. He would likely respond poorly to any kind of touch after all the trauma he had been through, but he was also certainly unable to move on his own, let alone walk. His legs were a mess of mangled skin, and his right leg was completely useless with his Achilles tendon severed. They couldn’t risk him hurting himself or Ranboo, or even worse, causing them to fall into the lava while on the bridge. There was really only one option, but Puffy had no good way to go about it.</p><p>“How… we need him unconscious,” she whispered. “He will never allow us to carry him, not when he’s so scared.”</p><p>Ranboo’s eyes brightened. “I know how to do that without hurting him much.” Puffy glanced up at him and Phil, who nodded his agreement. </p><p>“Okay, try it,” she told Ranboo. He turned back to Dream and slid a hand beneath his neck, feeling around for something. Dream jerked in fear, trying to get away, but Ranboo suddenly tensed, doing something to the back of Dream’s neck. Dream immediately went limp. His head fell back, landing in Ranboo’s awaiting palm. </p><p>Ranboo smiled proudly. “He’ll be asleep for a little while.”</p><p>Puffy grimaced. “Let’s get him out of here.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you all for reading! The support lately has been insane. I think chapter 4 will be the final one for this work, but if you guys have suggestions or prompts for future works, feel free to write them in the comments below. I may just write them. </p><p>A special thank you to DragonNo1412. You know why. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Redemption</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dream is taken to safety, where he struggles to heal.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait on this one, the last two chapters should be out much faster.<br/>If you enjoy listening to music while reading, I HIGHLY recommend "The Old Days" by Ingrid Michealson. It heavily inspired both this chapter and the next. :)<br/>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Puffy POV</b>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Ranboo, carrying an unconscious Dream in his arms, walks steadily beside Puffy. They’ve been traveling for a while now, but he has not yet become tired. They had decided to take Dream back to Phil’s house, where they would attempt to give him desperately needed medical care. Phil said he was a good physician, but he was unsure if he could manage the more severe injuries like the Achilles tendon and the compound fractures on Dream’s arm.</p>
<p>Ranboo comments that the pressure point he used to put Dream to sleep should have worn off by now, but Dream shows no signs of waking. Phil merely says that his body likely is getting much-needed rest and finally feels safe enough to do so. </p>
<p>They walk the rest of the journey in peace; everyone is too stressed or tired to say anything. They arrive at Phil’s house just before dark and all stumble into the home. The fire has nearly burned out, but the house remains warm and comforting. Ranboo takes Dream to a spare room in the back end of the house, and Phil goes to rekindle the fire and gather medical supplies. </p>
<p>Puffy stands awkwardly, unsure what to do with herself, but ultimately decides she should be near Dream should he wake up. She was the only person he may recognize as being safe.</p>
<p>She slips into the room Dream is occupying. Ranboo has laid him out on the bed, and the clean white sheets against his form highlight his ratty clothing and filthy body. He’s in no state to get a full bath, so when Phil returns, he and Puffy wipe Dream’s body off as best they can with fresh, warmed water after they strip him of the worst of the clothing. Dream groans in his sleep and stirs occasionally but does not rise to consciousness. </p>
<p>After they get him clean, Phil takes in the wounds covering Dream from literally head to toe. “This is… very bad,” he sighs, “I can fix most of this stuff, stitches and bandages for most of it, but I have no idea where to start with his ankle, legs, or arm. He’s missing… chunks of skin on his arm, his ankle is ruined, and the legs are just… I’ve never seen anything like this.” </p>
<p>Puffy frowns. “Quackity is beyond awful for doing this. As far as healing Dream, we should probably patch him up as best we can and then call Bad in. Their relationship is okay I think, and despite the Egg thing being an issue, Bad will want to help Dream. They are like brothers.”</p>
<p>“I already called on Bad. He should be here tomorrow morning to help. Speaking of brothers, though…” Phil says, “What about Sapnap and George? They have a right to know what has happened. I don’t think Dream will die, but if something goes even more wrong… it’ll be our fault if they don’t get to see him again.”</p>
<p>“I’ll send them a message to meet us here as soon as they can.” </p>
<p>With that, they spend the next hour or so working to carefully stitch, bandage, and stabilize every injury on Dream’s body. They find dozens of small wounds and many large ones. The worst of them are on his legs and arm. Phil does his best to splint the arm, but he can’t do much for fear or worsening the breaks. When Puffy peels the bloodied cloth–the one she had put there– off Dream’s upper arm, Phil has to step away for a minute to keep from being sick. They stitch and bandage those wounds and move on to his legs, which are in worse shape than either of them anticipated. Things are out of place, muscles torn and pulled to the surface in ways that will likely cause permanent damage. Phil figures there is nothing much to be done beyond stitches, but he wants Bad’s opinion first, so they just wrap the wounds for the time being. Despite them constantly shifting his body and prodding injuries, Dream remains out cold. His breathing becomes less shallow as they care for him, though, and he seems to relax into his sleep. After stitching and wrapping the remaining wounds on Dream’s torso and feet, Puffy and Phil slump into their respective chairs in exhaustion. </p>
<p>Puffy sits for only a few minutes before getting up from her seat beside the bed, taking dirtied rags with her as she exits the room. Phil remains behind, settling in beside Dream to monitor his breathing. </p>
<p>Puffy heads to the main area of the house, discarding the rags and washing her hands. Deciding Phil has been more than generous in letting them stay, she begins preparing dinner for them all in gratitude. She searches around for Ranboo, but he appears to have disappeared from the home. </p>
<p>Once the food– a meaty stew– is bubbling away on the stove, she pulls out her communicator to send a quick message to Sapnap and George. She stares at the device for an embarrassingly long time, unsure how to even begin to explain the situation to them. She isn’t even sure where they stand in their relationship with Dream. She ultimately settles on merely sending them both the simple message, “Meet at Phil’s house as soon as possible. It’s important.”</p>
<p>The device beeps cheerfully to say the message was transmitted, and she returns to watching the stew cook. A moment later, the communicator beeps again twice, indicating two incoming messages– likely confused responses from Sapnap and George, but she doesn’t check it.  She can’t bear to answer any questions. They will simply have to see when they arrive. </p>
<p>When the stew is heated, she ladles out some into a large bowl and takes it to Phil, who is still in Dreams room. He’s dozed off in an awkward upright position in his chair. She shakes him awake, hands him his food, and tells him to go eat in the kitchen and then get some rest. He tries to argue that he is fine to stay on watch, but she glares at him until he relents and exits the room. She curls up in his vacated seat, not feeling hungry herself. She is still sickened from everything she witnessed today. </p>
<p>Darkness falls, and she flicks on a small lamp on a bedside table near her. She sets it to a low setting as to keep the environment relaxing, and she waits. </p>
<p>And waits.</p>
<p>Darkness and silence surround her in such a thick blanket that when a sudden commotion arises at the front of the house, she nearly jumps out of her skin. She calms when she recognizes George’s voice but immediately starts to worry again when she remembers the circumstances. She checks once more to make sure Dream is still okay (he is breathing deeply, and his temperature is normal) before rising from her seat to go greet the visitors.</p>
<p>Sapnap and George have let themselves in and are shaking off snow as they peel off the extra layers of their clothes, bickering all the while. Puffy leans against the doorframe, waiting for them to settle down enough to notice her. </p>
<p>Sapnap, ever the alert one, notices first. “Oh, hey. Why did you call us here?” he asks. He’s curious, but not unkind. She appreciates the gentle tone, especially after the day she has had. She tries to get her tongue to work, to explain the story, but she just sighs. </p>
<p>“Come with me, quietly.” The boys look at each other in concern, but Sapnap shrugs and gestures for her to lead. She shows him to Dream’s room, raising the lamp’s brightness as she enters. The boys follow her in, and she watches as understanding dawns on their faces. They look over Dream, taking in the bandages, bruises, and pale skin of their friend. </p>
<p>“What the hell happened to him,” Sapnap’s tone is suddenly emotionless, “and why is he out of prison?” </p>
<p>Puffy forces her tongue to work. “Quackity and Sam decided they wanted information about that cursed revival book… at any cost. He did all of this, with Sam’s permission apparently, and I, fortunately, happened to visit Dream near that time and discovered what was going on. Now Quackity is the one in prison. Sam’s still free because he helped us get Dream out, reluctant as he was. We are yet to decide what to do with him.”</p>
<p>“So, he was tortured?” Sapnap stares at Dream, eyes void in a way that says he is anything but indifferent.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Puffy affirms, glancing over at George, who seems to have gone pale and a little green. “We figured we should call you in case he didn’t make it. He seems okay now, though. He’s just pretty beaten up, but some of the injuries… we don’t know how to fix them.”</p>
<p>“Like which ones?” Sapnap kneels by the bed, taking a closer look at the various bandages, but he cannot see anything much.</p>
<p>“His forearm was pretty much shattered. His thighs… we aren’t actually sure what happened, but they were sort of partially… inside out.” She says with a grimace, “and the Achilles tendon on his right ankle was completely severed.” </p>
<p>Sapnap inhales sharply at the last thing. “That’s not fixable.”</p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
<p>“He won’t be able to do… a lot of things.”</p>
<p>“I know.” Puffy breathes. “This is a lot to take in, I’m sure. We are doing our best to help him, though. You’re more than welcome to stay here until he wakes, we have spare rooms available. Phil is asleep right now, but I’m sure he would agree.” Sapnap nods wordlessly, gazing at Dream’s relaxed face. George sits down heavily in the chair by the bed. </p>
<p>“When will he wake?” asks George.</p>
<p>“We don’t know. He’s been asleep about half a day so far.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” </p>
<p>Puffy notes the boys’ obviously pained expressions and excuses herself from the room. She sits on the couch in the main living space and takes a deep breath to steady herself, wiping dampness from her eyes. She’s not sure why she’s emotional, but she justifies it as having to do with her lack of rest and the stressful day. Phil joins her in the living room shortly thereafter, having been woken by the commotion of Sapnap and George’s arrival. </p>
<p>Sapnap is the first to emerge from the room a few minutes later; George is noticeably not with him. Sapnap sits beside puffy, running his hands through his hair. “How did it come to this? What are we going to do with him?” He whispers, almost rhetorically. Puffy has no idea how to answer.</p>
<p>Thankfully, Phil speaks up, “We are keeping him here for the foreseeable future. He’s under my protection now.” Puffy whips her head to him in shock. That was not what they had discussed at all! The initial plan was to keep Dream here until he healed, but not permanently. “Yeah,” says Phil in response to her shock. “He’s beyond doing anyone harm. I think we can all agree on that. Between his injuries and the mental trauma, I don’t think he can even manage to leave the house. I refuse to lock him up in some dark shithole to rot and suffer more. I was never a fan of his choices, but he has served his time. And either way, he’s far enough away from people here that no one else even has to know.”</p>
<p>Sapnap nods, “I’m glad you said it first, because if any of you had tried to lock him back up, it would have been an ugly fight. I don’t agree with what he’s done in the past, but he doesn’t deserve to be tortured and left to sit in hell for eternity.” </p>
<p>“Exactly,” mumbles Puffy. Just then, a knocking comes at the door. </p>
<p>Phil opens it to Bad’s smiling face. “Hi!” says the demon with his typical cheer. Phil lets him in and begins explaining the situation, guiding Bad out of the main living space into where Dream is, leaving the others behind in somewhat awkward silence. George exits Dream’s room a few minutes after they enter, grimacing. </p>
<p>“He was going to set Dream’s arm or something gross,” he explains before sulkily sitting on Puffy’s other side.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Afternoon falls by the time Bad departs. </p>
<p>He set the arm injury (which apparently had required him to break the bones in several more places to realign things) and repaired the damage to the thigh muscles as best he could. The rest, he said, was up to Dream to heal from. According to Phil, Dream had woken up at one point during the process of the arm being set, and Bad gave him an anesthetic to keep him calm– after which, he returned to a slightly troubled sleep. </p>
<p>George goes to watch over Dream, and Puffy, Sapnap, and Phil attempt to get some sleep. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>George POV</b>
</p>
<p>George is sitting in a little wooden chair by his best friend’s bedside. It has been quiet for a while, and night has long since crept in upon them. All is at peace. He is not sleeping, but he is not awake either; he drifts through thoughts and worries, vaguely aware of his surroundings. He startles fully awake when he hears a shift in Dream’s breathing–a deeper inhale and a faster exhale. He sits up, allowing his eyes to focus in the dim lighting–</p>
<p>Tired green eyes catch his.</p>
<p>He inhales softly.</p>
<p>“Dream?” his voice is as low as it can be; he’s not sure if Dream can even hear it.</p>
<p>“George?” the scratchy-sounding answer floods George with immediate relief. He wants to launch himself at his best friend and embrace him, but he forces himself not to out of respect for Dream’s battered body. So he merely nods in confirmation as he watches Dream take in the new world around him.</p>
<p>Dream looks around, tilting his head a little to look at his surroundings. He doesn’t seem to be in too much pain, at least. </p>
<p>“Am I… am I…” he stutters.</p>
<p>When it becomes apparent Dream either cannot form the question or doesn’t want to, George answers it.</p>
<p>“You’re free. They got you out. And you’re never going back. Not to that place, and not to the monster that did this to you.”</p>
<p>Dream drops his head back, closing his eyes and exhaling in what could be either pain or relief. George doesn’t comment on the tears that silently begin to roll down his face. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>George, selfishly, doesn’t tell anyone that Dream has awoken until dawn breaks. He wants some time with him before the world gets complicated again.</p>
<p>They spend the rest of the night talking softly, catching up on lost time. Dream dozes occasionally, still not well enough to remain awake for long, but he seems to be more aware as their conversation continues and the night fades into brightness.</p>
<p>Dawn breaks, and with it, Sapnap and the others wake. </p>
<p>Sapnap pops his head into the room, smiling warmly at George. He pauses at the obvious joy on George’s face. “What is…” he freezes, cutting himself off when he looks over at Dream and sees open eyes. The reaction is immediate. “You’re awake!” he shouts, throwing himself across Dream in a jubilant embrace. Dream grunts against the weight but returns the embrace gingerly. </p>
<p>“Hey,” he rasps against Sapnap’s shoulder. Sapnap pulls back quickly, as if Dream’s voice reminds him of their fraught history.</p>
<p>His face shutters.</p>
<p>He retreats from Dream’s bedside, going to stand by the doorway again. “I’m glad to see you're awake, man,” he says before exiting the room. </p>
<p>George frowns at Sapnap’s retreating form. He doesn’t have much time to ponder the strange interaction, though. Puffy and Phil were awakened by the yells, and they race to Dream’s room to see what is happening. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Puffy POV</b>
</p>
<p>Puffy makes it in first, just brushing by Sapnap as he exits. She doesn’t bother to question him but instead goes immediately to Dream. Her eyes widen in realization when she sees his open eyes. A soft, genuine smile of relief splits her face. </p>
<p>Phil stands silently in the doorway, watching the situation carefully. </p>
<p>“Do you want to sit up?” Puffy asks Dream.</p>
<p>He considers briefly before saying, “Yeah. And I think I’d like to stand, too.” His voice already sounds steadier.</p>
<p>“One thing at a time,” Puffy says, gripping him carefully by the shoulders and helping shift him into a sitting position. When he says he feels alright and insists that he wants to try to stand, she shakes her head in refusal.</p>
<p>“Why not?” he sounds hurt. Puffy glances at Phil for help, only to find he has vacated the room entirely. She curses inwardly. She hates breaking bad news to people, so she tries to take a gentle approach.</p>
<p>“Dream, you’re still severely injured. I’m not sure your legs can support you anyway, and you haven’t eaten anything in a while–” </p>
<p>“It’s my ankle, isn’t it,” Dream whispers. “He cut the Achilles. I remember now.”</p>
<p>“Yeah…” Puffy trails off uncertainly.</p>
<p>“Let me try to stand anyway. Please.” The last words are more of a whispered plea than a demand. Puffy feels her heart crumpled into itself, so she nods her assent and slides an arm under his shoulder, bracing it against his back so he may use her as support and so she can catch him if he falls.</p>
<p>Dream puts his feet onto the ground, wincing at his right ankle and other various injuries. With a heaved breath, Dream manages to rise to a mostly straight position– using his left leg. He manages to stay upright mostly because of Puffy; his left leg cannot support his weight at all. The ankle crumples completely at the slightest weight upon it. He lets out an agonized groan and relents to sitting on the bed again. George and Puffy both wince in sympathy.</p>
<p>“This is going to be a challenge,” mutters Dream.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Several days drag by. Dream gains strength and mobility each day, and by the fifth, he can put a fair amount of weight on his injured ankle and hobble around well enough. He does have a severe limp, however, and he cannot move quickly or gracefully. For a man who previously prided himself on his physical abilities, it is a crushing fall from grace. His other injuries heal well enough with pain medicines and rest, but the thigh wounds seem inclined to linger. </p>
<p>They don’t talk about what is to be done with Quackity or Sam; everything seems quiet enough, so they merely let well enough alone for the time being. Puffy spends most of her time tending to Dream and helping rehabilitate him. Phil is scarcely around the cottage, choosing instead to manage “food supplies” by taking long, pointless walks most days. Puffy suspects it has nothing at all to do with the food and everything to do with a noisy mind and torn heart. Her suspicions are proven correct when Phil returns from one such walk with no food or supplies. </p>
<p>Sapnap and George are around as well, though she hardly notices them. They spend most of their time sparring outside in the snow, “practicing in a new biome,” according to them. In reality, they feel uncomfortable in the house, but want to be near Dream to be able to watch over their friend.</p>
<p>No one knows how Dream is really doing. Puffy tries to ask him often, but he constantly brushes her off and says he is “as fine as any other day.” Puffy sees shadows in his eyes, though. She sees him flinch at loud noises, close his eyes in terror at the sound of a sword striking flesh when Sapanap or George manage to land a hit on the other. She watches as he recoils from the world, taking what is left of his light with him. It is a terrible thing to witness, but one she is powerless to stop.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Dream POV</b>
</p>
<p>It’s the same day once again. A never-ending loop of small victories and even greater defeats. He manages to walk on his own one hour, and then falls to the floor while trying to comb his hair in the next. He takes a step outside, and his muscles seize from the cold. His body is unstable, ruined, irreparable. It doesn’t feel like his any longer.</p>
<p>He, Sapnap, and George sit at the dining table in somber silence. He had managed to walk to the table on his own but had gracelessly collapsed into a chair when he reached it. Puffy had told him it was progress and that he would be healed eventually, but “eventually” felt like forever and forever was too long. Shortly after his arrival, Sapnap and George had shown up in a pair, looking grave. They had said nothing yet beyond a greeting, but Dream could feel their tension. George pokes Sapnap’s side not-so-subtly, apparently urging him onwards in some way.</p>
<p>Sapnap signs and then cracks the silence with a question that shocks Dream. “Why did you do it all, man?”</p>
<p>“What?” he croaks in response.</p>
<p>“Why did you hurt so many people?”</p>
<p>Dream feels his chest cave in. “I never meant to hurt anyone. I just wanted…” he pauses, not sure how to put his thoughts into words. </p>
<p>“Wanted what?” Sapnap’s tone is getting irritated.</p>
<p>“I wanted us to be a family again. The wars, everything– it was all this big controversy that spiraled into a nightmare, and I just… I wanted it to be over. I wanted to fix it all.” It is so much more than that to Dream, but he can’t phrase it, not with them looking at him like this.</p>
<p>“You’re the one who broke it all, Dream,” says George. His voice is faint, almost faint enough to be missed, but Dream catches it. The softness of the words is somehow more crushing than any screaming could ever be.</p>
<p>There is a lapse in conversation.</p>
<p>Instead of their faces, Dream stares at his hands, which are resting interlaced on the table. Scars cover nearly every knuckle, both from adventures and horrors. He tries to ignore the ones from when he murdered Tommy. Of all the things he did, he regrets that one the most.</p>
<p>“Alright,” says Sapnap resolutely, causing Dream to look up at his brothers. “Dream… George and I talked earlier. We have to go. We can’t stay here in the middle of nowhere; we have lives to get back to. The rest of the server needs us. I just wanted to know your thoughts before we go.” He glances at George, who looks away. “The thing is, Dream. I don’t think we will see you for a while. You can’t leave here, and we can’t stay. And I think… we all need to move on. I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, too,” George adds hesitantly.</p>
<p>“Oh,” says Dream. He has no idea how to even process that, so he just asks, “When are you leaving?”</p>
<p>“Tonight. We are waiting for Phil to come back so we can say goodbye.”</p>
<p>“Oh.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>“Hey Sapnap, can I ask you a question?” Dream asks, tilting his face to let his hair shield from view the watering in his eyes.</p>
<p>“Okay…?”</p>
<p>“Do you forgive me?” Dream whispers. He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but they are his best friends, and they love him unconditionally– right?</p>
<p>“Dream…” Sapnap hesitates, and Dream feels his heart twist once more. “I don’t know that I can ever forgive you for the crap you’ve done. You ruined people’s <i>lives</i>, Dream. You killed people. You tore apart friendships and rotted love. I can’t just say I forgive you for all of that. You need to earn that forgiveness, and prove you deserve it.”</p>
<p>Dream nods in understanding and rises shakily to his feet. George looks like he wants to offer help, but Dream turns away from them both and escapes to his room.</p>
<p>He manages to lock the door before the shuddering cries and tears hit him. </p>
<p>He collapses on his bed, ignoring the dull pains from his wounds, and sobs into his hands. In some dusty corner of his mind, he notes he hasn’t cried like this since he was a child. Hysterical and gasping for breath, he starts to hyperventilate. Panic hits him like a brick to the face. He’s had panic attacks before, so he can recognize the feeling of it, but never has he had one so severe. </p>
<p>His mind repeats bits and pieces of the conversation with Sapnap, twisting words into knives that maim and kill.</p>
<p>He shudders and claws his head, pulling out his hair. </p>
<p>He wants to scream, so he bites his tongue until he tastes blood.</p>
<p><i>I don’t know if I can ever forgive you…</i>… <i>You ruined people’s lives… You’re the one who broke it all… you are a monster… unforgivable… as irreparable and broken as your ankle… as much of a failure as everything you ever tried to do…</i></p>
<p>The words morph into things that were never voiced by his friends, but as he sinks into his mind, Dream can no longer tell the difference. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Sapnap POV</b>
</p>
<p>After their brutal conversation with Dream, Sapnap and George go outside to train while they wait for Philza’s return. As they spar, half bored and half lazy, the hair on the back of Sapnap’s neck raises. He turns abruptly, forcing George to stop his sword mid-swing as to not actually injure his friend. “What–” George starts to complain, but he cuts himself off when he sees where Sapnap is looking.</p>
<p>In the distance, two figures approach. </p>
<p>Even with how far away they are, Sapnap can make out that the two men are dressed in full armor and armed to the teeth. One wears a stoic mask, and the other wears a psychotic smile.</p>
<p>“They’ve come for him,” he whispers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Dream POV</b>
</p>
<p>Dream wipes at his face, but the tears refuse to stop. He’s managed to calm his breathing a little, but his thoughts continue to devolve into panic. <i>What can I do, what can I do, what can I do? How can I be forgiven, how can I fix this?</i></p>
<p>In the midst of this, he hears something outside. Shouts of alarm, and a few moments later, vicious clashing of swords. It does not sound anything like sparring. He’s unsure what is happening, exactly, until he hears Quackity’s signature maniacal laughter. His heart stops in his chest. The urge to fight, to defend his brothers, rises like a tidal wave in his soul. </p>
<p>Dream takes up a spare sword from a nearby wall mount and stumbles outside to join the fray.</p>
<p>He wants to fight, to prove he isn’t entirely worthless.</p>
<p>A depraved grin graces his lips.</p>
<p>He has nothing left to lose anyway.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Red Snow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Short but sweet one. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>George POV</b>
</p>
<p>The fight was not going well. He and Sapnap were both decent warriors, though Sapnap was considerably better than him. <i>Because Dream always had your back. You never had to fight for yourself.</i> </p>
<p>The main issue is their lack of armor. Sam and Quackity are fully armored, whereas George and Sapnap have nothing but casual clothing. Sam and Quackity were also fueled by rage. They became lethal machines who care about nothing but getting to Dream and killing him once and for all.</p>
<p>Quackity had explained, as he approached them moments ago, that he was sick of waiting for Dream to talk. He was furious that Dream had escaped, and he wanted to end this for good. Sam, misguided as he was, agreed wholeheartedly. They said they would be content to simply walk into the house and murder Dream where he was, but of course neither Sapnap nor George would ever let that happen. Despite their cruel words earlier, they loved Dream dearly and always would. They knew they would eventually forgive him and make amends, no matter what. </p>
<p>George just hoped Dream knew that, too.</p>
<p>He is engaged in a fight with Sam when the sound of the cottage door opening catches his ear. He doesn’t risk a glance away from his opponent, but he assumes it is Phil finally returning. He doesn’t consider the fact that Phil would not arrive at the house.</p>
<p>He blocks a vicious swing of Sam’s sword, returning the blow with gritted teeth. In the distance, the sound of metal clashing rings as Sapnap and Quackity duel it out. Sapnap is better than Quackity, but his lack of armor puts him at a severe disadvantage in the fight. Where he has to be cautious of any wrong moves, Quackity is wild and fearless, able to take small hits without much harm.</p>
<p>Strangely, Sam suddenly breaks away from their locked swords, quickly stepping out of George’s range. He growls, glaring at something behind George. George risks a brief glance over his shoulder and is shocked to see Dream, sword in hand, standing there. He looks strong, but George knows it is a façade; he had watched him struggle to sit in a chair just that morning. But Dream acts as if he has never been injured. He confidently lunges forward, notably not putting much weight on his injured ankle, and Sam raises his sword to block. They grin at each other over their crossed swords with anything but camaraderie.</p>
<p>After Dream’s initial spirited attack, he loses some energy and seems to be in pain, but his aid tips the balance just enough for George to land a killing blow. Sam finally falls, and his body disappears as he respawns elsewhere. </p>
<p>Panting, George twists to where Sapnap is still linked in combat with Quackity. Sapnap hasn’t lost yet, but he is covered in small wounds and standing as if his shoulder pains him. George sprints over immediately to help him, leaving Dream to stand alone. Together, they knock Quackity down. Sapnap raises his sword, ready to end Quackity, but George yells for him to stop.</p>
<p>“Let’s tie him up. I want to talk to him about a few things.” He stares down at Quackity, who bares his teeth in a snarl.</p>
<p>“I agree,” says Sapnap, and helps George tie Quackity up using a leather belt from a sword’s sheath. Quackity is too injured to escape far anyway, so they don’t worry about tying it too securely. They take from him what appears to be his only weapon: his sword.<br/>
They turn their backs to him and go to speak with Dream, who is still standing, seemingly in shock, where George had left him. His bloodied sword dangles loosely in his grip, and he’s staring blankly at the spot where Sam had died. He glances up as they approach. </p>
<p>
  <b>Dream POV</b>
</p>
<p>“What a fight, ay fellas?” he asks them. Something sounds off in his voice, even to his own ears.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” says Sapnap, frowning in concern. “Hey, you alright?”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah, he was too slow to get me.”</p>
<p>“No, I meant like… okay, well, never mind. We tied up Quackity so we could question him later. I don’t know if you’d want to be a part of that or not…”</p>
<p>“No, thanks.” Dream says immediately.</p>
<p>“Oh, well…” Sapnap trails off for a moment but continues talking, discussing their plans of what to do with Quackity as well as Sam. Dream listens merely out of concern about whether he will ever have to see the warden or the prison again. </p>
<p>All of them drop their guard as they wander through various solutions, forgetting they have left a criminal and psychopath tied up loosely behind them.</p>
<p>Quackity takes advantage of their distraction. With quick, nimble fingers, he pulls out a thin and sharp hidden dagger from his sleeve and cuts through his bindings stealthily.</p>
<p>Dream is the first to sense something is amiss; his senses had always been the keenest. He glances up in time to see Quackity sprinting at them full speed, something silver shining in his hand. His eye is set on Sapnap’s back. </p>
<p>Dream doesn’t waste energy shouting a warning; Quackity is too close, mere feet away. Dream twists his body around Sapnap, shoving his brother behind himself. He ignores the feeling of his old wounds pulling at the sudden, strenuous movement. </p>
<p>Sapnap, ignorant of the reason behind Dream’s strange actions, turns too slowly. He starts to ask Dream what he is doing—</p>
<p>Quackity’s eyes widen in surprise and then joy as he sees who is now in front of him. He doesn’t hesitate.</p>
<p>His dagger sinks hilt-deep into Dream’s chest.</p>
<p> with both hands, he twists it upwards into the heart with a merciless sneer.</p>
<p>Dream smiles at him, even as he feels the dagger drag along bone.</p>
<p>Distantly, he hears screams ring out. He watches as Sapnap’s sword swings overhead, beheading Quackity on the spot.</p>
<p>He falls to his knees simultaneously as Quackity’s body vanishes. </p>
<p>He feels arms grab him, pulling him close and preventing him from faceplanting on the ground.</p>
<p>The arms should feel like home, warmth, and everything good, but the world has gone cold.</p>
<p>And Dream feels nothing more.</p>
<p>
  <b>George POV</b>
</p>
<p>When he sees the blade sink into Dream, watches as it twists into his heart, George feels his soul change irrevocably.</p>
<p>The world becomes silent even as it becomes louder; he cannot hear anything, not even what could be his own screams or Sapnap’s as they shatter the still air.</p>
<p>Sapnap kills Quackity, and Dream falls to the ground silently. Sapnap throws his sword to the side, kneeling and catching his brother just as he begins to cant sideways. He pulls the dagger out of Dream’s chest, releasing far too much crimson with it. George wants to tell him that he should have left the blade in, that Dream will just bleed out faster now, but he cannot form words as he collapses beside Sapnap in the snow. The snow has begun to turn brilliantly red.</p>
<p>Sapnap is shouting and raging at Dream, “Why? I have all of my lives left! I would have respawned. <i>You can’t</i>,” the last part is whispered in complete misery.</p>
<p>Dream, head slumping to the side and with blood dripping down his chin, manages to choke out a few words that George knows will forevermore haunt him: “I… needed… to earn… forgiveness.”</p>
<p>“Not like this!” Sapnap roars, shaking him, but Dream’s eyes are unfocused, gazing at something unseen in the distance.</p>
<p>Sapnap falls silent just in time for George to hear Dream’s dying breath.</p>
<p>It’s a tiny exhale, a life being expelled from a tired body.</p>
<p>Dream’s chest goes still. </p>
<p>Sapnap wails to the sky, an anguished cry protesting the unfairness of the world. He pulls Dream to his chest, hugging his brother tightly even as warm blood coats his clothing, staining his soul. </p><p>Dream's body stays in his arms, not disappearing because he will never respawn. George reaches out a trembling hand, gently closing Dream's eyelids.</p>
<p>“We forgive you, Dream,”  he whispers into the air. He is too late to be heard.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry. :)</p>
<p>Epilogue coming soon.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Epilogue- A New Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In the aftermath of Dream's passing, his friends struggle to come to terms with the life ahead of them.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here we are, the last chapter :D sorry this one took so long! Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Sapnap Pov</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Sapnap’s tears soak into Dream’s shirt, cooling into frost on his lashes as the sun sets behind him and cold night sets in. He’s not sure how much time passes, but it must be hours. At some point, Phil arrives silently behind them, taking in the carnage with shocked eyes. The snow, melting due to the red staining it, and the three bodies in it- two kneeling and one lifeless and still. George looks up at Phil with reddened eyes. </p><p>Phil lets them remain there for a bit longer, but when it becomes apparent that neither Sapnap nor George will move without prompting, he approaches Sapnap and lays a hand on his shoulder. </p><p>“Come on, mate. It’s getting cold out. It’s time to go inside.”</p><p>“He’s not going to wake up,” Sapnap whispers, disregarding Phil’s statement.</p><p>“No, he won’t,” Phil agrees as he kneels by Sapnap and grips his face, turning him so their eyes are forced to meet. “But you have to carry on. Let him go and come inside with me.”</p><p>“I can’t,” says Sapnap, voice cracking.</p><p>“Phil is right, we need to get inside. We’re both injured, too,” George comments quietly, voice sounding raw and strained. “But Phil, what do we do with his… his body?” He chokes on the last few words.</p><p>“I’ll handle it,” Phil replies, but Sapnap is shaking his head, eyes tearing up again because Phil makes it sound like Dream isn’t even a person anymore, just a corpse to be rid of–</p><p>“I can’t leave him. Not again. This all happened because I wasn’t there for him when he needed me most.” </p><p>“Regardless, Dream wouldn’t want you to freeze to death on his account,” Phil reasons. “I’ll take care of him.” Sapnap hesitates, but he appreciates the use of “him” rather than “it” this time. So, when Phil slides a hand under Dream’s body, lifting the disturbingly stiff form up and away from Sapnap’s frozen hands, Sapnap nods his head reluctantly. Shakily, he rises onto frozen legs and stumbles towards the house. The door is still half-open from when Dream had come through it. George follows slowly behind him as Sapnap grabs the doorframe, pulling himself stiffly into the house. Phil disappears into the basement of the house, likely storing Dream’s body somewhere… Sapnap cuts off the thought before he makes himself sick. He and George arrive in the house, both immediately changing clothes, showering, and tending to their wounds. It is a well-practiced routine that helps them both settle their minds, but Sapnap feels a lingering weight on his soul that he knows will not ease soon.</p><p>That night, Phil forces them to eat a good dinner and go to sleep early. He says nothing regarding Dream and ignores both George and Sapnap whenever they try to question him about where the body is. He merely says it is tomorrow’s problem.</p><p> </p><p>The next day, Sapnap rises from bed feeling emptier inside than ever before. He had felt the same way after Dream initially had gone to prison; it was a guilty conscience that hadn’t surfaced until a week after they had locked Dream up. It had begun when he thought of a funny joke and wanted to tell it to Dream– only to remember Dream was locked up far away, inaccessible, and alone. </p><p>This was so much worse. It was guilt, and grief, and regret– all accentuated with the knowledge that this loss was a permanent one. Dream will never wake up; he will never walk out of the prison and come home. Sapnap will never see him smile or hear his ridiculous laugh again, and it haunts him.</p><p>He drags his hands through his hair and stares at the wall in his room for a long time before finally getting the courage to stand up. On his way to the door, he swears he can feel a breath of air brush by his shoulder. </p><p>He glances back, sees nothing, and continues on.</p><p>The house is awake but quiet. Phil made breakfast, and it looks good, but everything smells like stale blood and death, so Sapnap ignores the food and heads to the main living area.  </p><p>At this point begins a series of conversations which Sapnap does not care to think about: discussions about how to inform the rest of the server about Dream’s death, what should be done with his body, what to do about Quackity and Sam…</p><p>They settle on sending out a communicator message with an update in regard to the loss of Dream– though Sapnap knows very few people will even consider it a loss. They plan a funeral of sorts, but they will burn Dream’s body rather than burying it. They don’t want there to be a grave to be desecrated, and George says Dream would want to be released into nature, not put into the ground anyway. They decide to speak to Sam and Quackity directly to decide what actions should be taken about them. </p><p>Phil, with the help of George and Sapnap, composes the message about Dream and posts it to the server. </p><p>No one responds.</p><p> </p><p>They take a walk through the snow, eventually arriving at a distant forest biome, Dream’s favorite type of terrain. All the way there, Phil carries a morbidly stiff body bag on his shoulder– Dream, wrapped up in a tangled web of cloth. Sapnap can’t endure looking. During the trek, George, aided occasionally by Sapnap, explains what happened before and during the fight. Phil nods his head stoically, seemingly never surprised– even when George describes Dream’s sacrifice. He merely mutters, “stupid boy… always wanted to be the hero,” under his breath.</p><p>They arrive just after noon and set up a makeshift pyre, and Phil lays the body – at this point, Sapnap refuses to think of it as Dream; it is just a body, right? Dream is still alive, right? – down across the freshly cut wood logs.</p><p>They gaze on in silence as Sapnap pulls out a flint and steel, flicking it to light it, and chucks it onto the pyre. It catches flame quickly despite the freshness of the wood, and soon smoke and the sweet smell of burning wood permeates the air. It smells like any other fire, but Sapnap can’t help but feel it also smells like burning bodies. He looks away when the body bag catches fire.</p><p>No one says anything as the pyre burns, beyond some muttered words of prayer– from Phil of course– for Dream to be in a better place and at peace. Sapnap wants to say something, but he cannot form the words. He can’t convey what Dream meant to him in words, so he doesn’t bother. The shock of the loss hasn’t even really settled with him yet. George merely wipes his eyes as he watches the fire hungrily consume the body of his best friend. He says nothing either, though he is clearly in deep thought.</p><p>They walk away from the pyre’s ashes and head home around midafternoon, making it home just before the sun sets fully. As they settle in for the night, Sapnap can’t help but think the cozy, warm cottage doesn’t feel so cozy and warm anymore.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Puffy Pov</b>
</p><p> </p><p>When Puffy receives the message on her communicator, she is caring for the garden outside her house. Removing her gloves, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out the little device, squinting to read the message from Philza in the sunlight. </p><p>She reads it three times more.</p><p>She stares at the words, unable to comprehend the meaning behind them.</p><p>
  <i>“In an unfortunate fight with Quackity and Sam today, Dream was slain, thereby losing his last life. We hope that if nothing else, this tragic loss can diminish some of the conflicts within the server. There will be a small funeral. Message me back for further information if you wish to attend.”</i>
</p><p>She drops the device and falls to her knees beside it, crushing freshly tilled soil under her weight. She sinks her fingers into the earth, feeling dirt clump under her nails.</p><p>How could this have possibly happened? Just over a day ago, she had been with Dream, checking on how his ankle was healing and prodding him with questions about his state of mind. She no longer lived at the cottage because he didn’t need constant care anymore; he was mainly healed and independent again. It made absolutely no sense to her that after everything, Dream could just be dead. He had been getting better! They were working through his issues, and though she knew he was mentally struggling as well, she firmly believes she can help him through that, too. </p><p>But she can’t fix what is dead. </p><p>She goes inside her home, quietly putting on her travel gear, armor, and weapons. She sits down on the floor of her room, pulls out her communicator, and stares at that cursed message again.</p><p>She knows she can’t bear to see a funeral, but she knows she at least has to go back to the cottage. She has to know what has happened, even if she doesn’t want to. </p><p>With much hesitance, she finally departs for Philza’s house. </p><p> </p><p>She arrives just after dark and comes into a house full of tension. George, along with Phil, sits quietly in the living room. A steaming cup of some drink rests in his hands, ignored. Both men look noticeably cold. She glances to the door and sees three sets of boots resting by it, all of which are slowly dripping water from melting snow. Evidently, they have just returned from some place and are tired, but Puffy ignores that and simply asks, “What the hell happened? Is he really…?” she doesn’t finish her last sentence, but everyone knows what and who she is referring to. George glances nervously at Phil, who sighs. </p><p>“Yeah, he’s really dead.”</p><p>Puffy knew this already, but somehow hearing the words come from Phil in person is so much worse. Her stomach twists, and she sits down heavily on an empty chair, paying no mind to her snow-covered apparel. She waits for Phil to answer the other question, and after a moment, he does.</p><p>“A fight broke out between Sapnap, George, Quackity, and Sam. Q and Sam showed up looking for a fight. From what I have heard, the only way they wouldn’t attack was if Sap and George led them to Dream and allowed them to murder him. They, of course, refused. The fight didn’t swing in the boy’s favor…Quackity and Sam had better gear and a thirst for blood. Dream, I suppose, heard the skirmish, and wanted to step in. He helped, and they won.”</p><p>“Then how did he die?” interrupted Puffy angrily. She was tired of the monologue; she wanted to know the bottom line. <i>Now.</i></p><p>“I was getting to that. They killed Sam, but they wanted to question Quackity, so they left him tied up. He was pretty weak at the time, so they didn’t consider the possibility of him attacking. They underestimated how crazy he was, though. He escaped, and instead of running, he attacked Sapnap from behind. Dream saw it coming first and jumped in front of the knife. He saved Sapnap, but he died from the stab wound.”</p><p>Puffy stares at Phil. “That makes no sense. Why would he do that? Sapnap has all of his lives still. It wouldn’t have been a permanent death.”</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>“I do,” says George. He looks at his shoes, twisting his fingers together in his lap nervously. “We… Sapnap and I… messed up. We were talking to Dream about… everything, and he asked if we could ever forgive him. We told him probably not. We told him he needed to prove he was worthy of being forgiven. That’s why he did it… to be forgiven for his crimes. To prove he was not a monster.”</p><p>“So,” Puffy says, tone going very cold. “you told him, a man who had lost everything, that you would possibly never forgive him? That his best friends in the world basically no longer cared for him?”</p><p>“That’s not exactly what we said–” </p><p>“It doesn’t matter!” Puffy jumps up from her seat, causing George to shrink into his own seat in shame and fear. “He was losing ground on everything. <i>Everything</i>. And when he asked for a hand to help him up, you shoved him down again. No wonder he was so willing to die. I’d want to die too, if my friends were as terrible as you!” Puffy pants, eyes wet with unshed tears, fists clenched in rage. She doesn’t really mean what she says. Dream had been on a dangerous precipice mentally, and though George should have known that, Dream’s actions weren’t his fault– not entirely. But she’s enraged and in pain, and George and Sapnap didn’t protect her duckling–</p><p><i>You should have protected him yourself. It’s your fault, Puffy. You neglected him again. You should have been there. He needed you. You’re a failure not only as a guardian but also as a friend.</i> </p><p>She disregards her furious thoughts, shelving them to contemplate over later, and defeatedly slumps back into her chair. “Feel better?” questions Phil.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“That’s fine.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, George.” She says quietly. He nods in acknowledgment but doesn’t reply. She fears she has broken another friendship, but she hopes he will forgive her anyway. She glances up as Sapnap enters the room, leaning against a wall. She drops her gaze again. “I’m just... I failed Dream. It should never have gotten this bad. I should have helped him before any of this prison crap happened. If I had just been there, been a guiding hand to keep him from being twisted by the need for power, maybe…” </p><p>“It’s not your fault, Puffy. It’s no one’s fault. I don’t believe in fate, but anyone could see that this was the destiny Dream was always headed towards. He craved power, and ultimately, the guilt from his crimes overwhelmed him and caused him to sacrifice himself. He was on a collision course with death from day one.” Sapnap’s voice startles Puffy, and she fights against her instinct to defend Dream’s honor. </p><p>“You’re right. Maybe this would have happened no matter what. But either way, he was too young to have had such a burden on his shoulders.” She says. Phil nods in agreement. “We keep forgetting, he is – was –” Puffy corrects herself grimly, “barely older than the boys whom we consider to still be children. Yeah, he was corrupted by greed and power or whatever. But no one tried to save him, either. We let this happen. I won’t let it happen again. I know it’s too late for Dream, but I won’t let anyone else suffer as he did. Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo… they are all under my protection now. I will watch over them and keep them from the evil that haunts this server.” It’s a bold proclamation, Puffy knows, but she is sick of waiting around for solutions to present themselves. She can’t let more people, especially children, fall victim to the same things which perverted Dream.</p><p>“Are you sure you’re ready for that, after everything?” Phil asks. She appreciates him not questioning her logic, just her ability to execute.</p><p>“I think I need it now more than ever. I can’t fix the past, but maybe I can save the future.”</p><p> </p><p>And so, her new occupation is born: keeping track of the three boys. It’s more complicated than it seems, especially when dealing with Tommy, but it is worth it. She discovers they all have already suffered more traumas than any children should have to endure. But with her care, they begin to heal.</p><p>With Dream gone, the server goes quiet. It’s not a peaceful kind of quiet though, but rather, an apprehensive one. Everyone is waiting for the next big conflict. </p><p>Quackity and Sam are put on trial a few weeks after Dream’s death. It is decided that since Sam did not directly cause any deaths or inflict pain on Dream, he may remain free. He is closely watched by Bad, however, who says that he strongly dislikes people who stand by and watch as atrocities are committed.</p><p>Quackity is a different story. At first, they come to the decision that he should be put in the prison, but the idea is thrown away when Puffy reminds the other members of the server that no one deserves to be left in that prison– not even Quackity. </p><p>Reluctantly, they consent to a slightly lessened punishment: a jail cell in the community house. It is accessible by all members of the server at any time, and because of the location, there is no chance that he will be secretly put through abuse. It is a compromise, and one that Puffy is willing to make.</p><p>She now stands on a cliff over the water, gazing out at the prison. Distantly, she feels herself shiver as the sun goes down and night air presses in on her. The prison is nothing but a wound on the land and a stain on their souls. No one visits anymore; as far as she knows, no one has even returned since she and the others freed Dream.</p><p>She smiles grimly as an idea forms.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Sapnap Pov</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Puffy had given Phil an idea, and he was determined to see it through. Apparently, Puffy thought it was time to “clean up” the server by removing old buildings with no current use. She wanted them to start with the prison. She asked them to fully destroy it, through any means necessary, and everyone had readily agreed. </p><p>Though Sapnap agreed that it should be taken down, he didn’t know why he had to be a part of the demolition crew. He consented, however, when George begged him and insisted that he would be going, with or without Sapnap. In the interest of watching over George, Sapnap relented.</p><p>On the day of the planned demolition, Sapnap tugs on his chest plate nervously as he approaches the black monolith. Sam and George, along with most of the other members from the server, march beside and behind him. They have a grim duty to do: taking down the prison. They have hundreds of stacks of TNT between them all, and they won’t stop until there is nothing left of the building but a soured memory.</p><p>But first, they need to visit the cell– Dream’s cell. George was concerned there may be personal effects of Dream’s that should be saved before the building is destroyed. A reluctant Sam leads Sapnap and George into the prison. The rest of the men and women wait outside, unable to start demolition until the trio reemerges. They make their way through layers of the prison, guided through the “warden’s paths” to avoid traps. </p><p>What seems like an eternity later, they arrive at the main cell. The lava is not up; there is no need for it anymore. They silently stand on the bridge, following it as it lurches over the pit, heading towards the singular cell.</p><p>It bumps into the cell’s edge, allowing them to safely step off into the cramped and musty-smelling cell. Sapnap immediately notices the blood and gore scattered about; blood splatters paint the walls, and dried lakes of it coat the floor.  Several chunks of what appear to be rotting flesh lay scattered about, adding to the horrid smell. The rest of the cell is disturbingly barren.</p><p>George, face scrunched up in a grimace, rises from where he has knelt in the back corner of the cell. In his hands rest several pieces of broken porcelain, unmistakably Dream’s mask. Sapnap had wondered what had become of it; when Dream woke at the cottage, he hadn’t so much as asked after the mask, and he had seemed indifferent about showing his face to people. Sapnap conjectured that it was because Dream had already been seen at his worst and had nothing else to hide behind a mask. </p><p>As he waits for George to finish whatever he is doing, Sapnap idly flips through a book resting on the small book podium in a corner of the cell. He’s shocked to discover that it seems to be a diary. The first dozen or so pages are definitely what he knows to be Dream’s writing. They are neatly written pages of thoughts, plans, and ideas. After the first pages, however, the writing takes a drastic shift. Within only a few pages, the writing goes from neat and organized to large, scrawled letters, barely legible at best. </p><p>
  <i>“Lonely, lonely, lonely</i>
</p><p>
  <i>So quiet, so quiet, so alone</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Why don’t they come?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Have they forgotten me?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Alone, alone, alone.”</i>
</p><p>The rest of the book continues in the same manner. Sapnap slams it shut and returns it to its place on the book stand, but swiftly changes his mind and instead pockets the book, deciding he wishes to look at it further later. It may be the last thing with Dream’s writing and thoughts in it.</p><p>He turns back to George, who is still holding the broken shards of the mask as if they may leap at his face and bite him. “You ready?” he questions softly. George nods his assent.</p><p>“This is what I came here for. What a shame it’s broken.” </p><p>Sapnap vaguely acknowledges the accidental metaphor behind those words: Dream’s own brokenness, his shattered façade, which is incapable of being pieced back together, even in death, and the fact that they only seemed to care about Dream when he had appeared to be whole and unmarred, a steady force of nature. But when he had shattered, they abandoned him in a freezing dim cell.</p><p> </p><p>They exit the prison the same way they entered it, and when they arrive outside, the people who have arrived to help begin placing TNT inside every corner of the prison, rigging them all together. It takes a few hours, but eventually, the prison is laced with enough TNT to blow it sky-high.</p><p>Sapnap watches the proceedings in silence along with George. They had both laid a few blocks of TNT but had left most of the work to the others. Sapnap is about to go ask Phil if they are almost ready to detonate the TNT, but before he can, he feels a brush of cold air against his neck. He spins around, startled. There is no wind today, nor is there anyone near him. Even George is gone, having left to go speak with Sam. He feels like he’s going insane. This is perhaps the fifth time he has felt what seems to be breaths against his neck or face. Nothing is ever there. He growls in frustration.</p><p>Ranboo, who has been standing by them, cocks his head curiously. “Did you feel something?” he asks Sapnap, who looks up in surprise.</p><p>“Yeah, actually. I keep feeling these phantom-like breaths on my neck. It’s creeping me out.”</p><p>“Oh,” says Ranboo, stretching pale scars on his face as he smiles, “It’s probably just Dream. I’m surprised you can sense him.”</p><p>“<i>What</i>?” Sapnap stares at Ranboo, convinced the boy has gone insane.</p><p>“It’s probably Dream,” he repeats slowly, as if Sapnap is the child. “He’s still around, you know. I can see and hear the dead due to my ancestry. I’m part enderman, part… other. You, however, shouldn’t be able to sense him unless he takes on a more corporeal form like Ghostbur often does. That’s strange.” Sapnap shakes his head in disbelief. This whole thing is beyond strange.</p><p>“There’s no way it’s Dream. He’s dead. He’s gone.”</p><p>“Yes, but he’s also still here. I wouldn’t lie to you, especially about that. I can try to talk to him if you’d like, but he hasn’t said anything to me yet. He just kind of wanders around in silence. He seems to follow you and George, mostly, but he’s also drawn to me due to my abilities.”</p><p>Sapnap tries to judge Ranboo’s face and concludes that the boy is being honest. He’s smiling genuinely and not laughing in a rude way. </p><p>“Okay,” agrees Sapnap, “So how do we do this?”</p><p>“Just try to speak to him. He’s standing there now,” Ranboo says, pointing to their right towards an empty patch of grass, “If he responds, I can hear and transmit it to you.”</p><p>Sapnap is unsure whether to believe this, but he decides it’s worth it. Feeling like an absolute idiot, he speaks into the open air, “Hey Dream. I don’t know if you can hear this, but… we miss you, man. We miss you so much.” He glances at Ranboo, who nods encouragingly.</p><p>“Keep going, he can hear you.”</p><p>“Uh, alright. I didn’t have the chance to tell you this, before you… before you left, but I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for leaving you when you needed me most. I was a coward. I betrayed you, and I failed you.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Dream Pov</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Dream is empty inside.</p><p> He exists, but his body feels like air, and his mind feels like it has been drained of many important memories. He remembers most things, including some very random things like the fact that George is colorblind, but part of the context is missing. He knows the man standing near him is his friend, and he even knows that his name is Sapnap, but he doesn’t recall how they had met or much of their history beyond a recent disagreement. So as the man apologizes to him for reasons he couldn’t remember, he merely tilts his head in silent acknowledgment and watches as tears trace down his forgotten friend’s face. He drifts closer, lingering near the One Who Sees him. After a moment of consideration, Dream recalls the lanky boy’s name– Ranboo. Dream can sense that he is special– he is part Enderman and part In Between, effectively split between the mortal world and the dead world and is able to communicate with both sides. The boy looks at him, and Dream relishes in the feeling of being <i>seen</i>.</p><p>“Do you want to say anything, Dream? I can tell him for you,” says Ranboo.</p><p>Dream frowns, struggling to recall the parts of his past which he can remember. He feels regret on his soul, a weight settled there like a festering wound. He recollects seeking forgiveness but never receiving it. He knows he died trying to get it, but he feels no regret for that.</p><p>“Ask him if… if I’m forgiven for what I did. For my wrongdoings.” The words come out suddenly, surprising both Dream and Ranboo. Ranboo, to his credit, offers no judgment; he merely repeats Dream’s question out loud, to which Sapnap appears shocked. </p><p>“He actually asked that?” Ranboo nods, and Sapnap exhales slowly before replying. “Dream, I forgave you long before you died. I was just too afraid to admit it for fear of what others would think. I’m sorry it took you dying for me to realize that. It… everything was so complicated, but I could never forsake you. You’re my best friend, both in life and death, and forever. So yes, I forgive you, a thousand times over.” Sapnap is looking towards where he thinks Dream is, but his line of sight is too far to the left, and his stare goes right past Dream. Dream smiles sadly, approaching his old friend. He reaches out a hand and rests it on Sapnap’s face, trying to wipe away the tears. The skin feels warm and soft beneath his hand, but he doubts Sapnap feels anything at all.</p><p>But Sapnap’s eyes flash upwards, and he stares right at Dream’s face– and sees nothing. “I feel you there,” he whispers. Dream’s heart gives a painful lurch.</p><p>“Who are you talking to?” George’s voice startles all three of them; he had silently walked over, leaving the other groups of people far away. He stops by Sapnap, frowning in concern at the tear stains on his friend’s face. “Why are you crying?” he asks. Dream notes what appears to be his mask, repaired haphazardly, in George’s left hand. </p><p>Sapnap doesn’t bother to explain himself beyond saying, “Dream’s here, and he can hear us.” Ranboo hums in confirmation. </p><p>“Really?” George glances around, nervously shifting the porcelain mask in his hands and looking right past Dream, who heaves a sigh in mild exasperation. “He’s still here? How come he isn’t visible like Ghostbur then?”</p><p>“Because he has less attachment to this world. He doesn’t want to be here like Ghostbur did. My guess is that he has unfinished business, and after he resolves it, he will move on to… wherever.” Ranboo answers gently. </p><p>“That makes sense, I guess.” George pauses thoughtfully, “What unfinished business would he have, though?”</p><p>“I think it’s… us.” Sapnap interrupts. “He died while seeking our forgiveness, and we never gave it to him while he was still alive. I just told him I forgive him– because I honestly do. Maybe if you do the same, it’ll help him be at peace. But only if you mean it.” George ponders over Sapnap’s words for a second, and Dream feels his heart stutter a few times in the tense silence.</p><p>Finally, George seems to be ready to speak. “He’s there,” directs Ranboo, pointing to Dream’s actual current location: on Sapnap’s other side. </p><p>“Dream,” George begins, and Dream smiles fondly because George is still failing at looking at him directly, despite the clear instructions. It must be due to his colorblindness. “I know our last major conversation was an awful one. But I feel I should tell you: I didn’t mean what I said then. You are just a person who has made mistakes, not the monster I portrayed you as. And for that, I’m very sorry. You were dealing with a lot, and I was selfish and thoughtless and just assumed you’d be fine, because you always are. I guess I failed to consider that you may need help for once. I don’t think you made good choices in your past, but you didn’t deserve what happened to you, and you certainly didn’t deserve my failing you as a friend. That should have never happened, regardless of what you did. So, from the bottom of my heart, Dream, I forgive you for everything.”</p><p>As the words resonate with him, Dream feels a burden lift from his shoulders. It’s immediate relief, and he knows right away that Ranboo’s theory about his unfinished business was correct. He can feel a tug at his bones, urging him to let go and move on to somewhere new and unexplored. For a moment longer, he clings to his somewhat solid form.</p><p>“Tell them I say thank you, and I love them very much,” he chokes out to Ranboo, who nods in empathy.</p><p>Even as Ranboo repeats the words to Sap and George, Dream feels himself lose his grip. </p><p>There’s a gentle pulling feeling, and suddenly he is a billion insignificant particles of life, held together by his will alone. As something bright but unseen drags him away, he reaches out to George one last time. He has no arm nor hand, but the particles move like one as he brushes a hand against George’s face. George seems to look directly at him, eyes widening slightly in recognition.</p><p>With a last loving smile to Ranboo and Sapnap, Dream lets the light pull him away.</p><p>And he is nothing more. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Ranboo Pov</b>
</p><p> </p><p>As he watches, Dream’s staticky form disappears into nothing. Ranboo breathes a sigh of relief; Dream has finally found peace, whatever it looks like. Sapnap and George look a little confused, so he comments, “He’s gone now. For good, I believe. I assume you guys solved his unfinished business by forgiving him.” </p><p>Sapnap rakes his hands through his hair, muttering under his breath. George merely lifts a hand to his face, feeling where the ghost of Dream’s hand had touched.</p><p>Leaving them to contemplate what they experienced, Ranboo turns away and strides up a small hill overlooking the prison. He gives the go-ahead signal to the TNT operators.</p><p>Minutes later, loud shouts of “get clear!” echo over the hills, and the prison erupts in a wave of fire and rock and obsidian chunks. Explosions continue to sound for a moment, and when they finally cease, where the prison once stood is now just a black scar beneath the ocean’s surface. The water sloshes angrily back into place, reclaiming its territory.</p><p>Ranboo thinks that this might just be a new beginning for everyone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you all for being on this journey with me. I'll be writing more in the future, so feel free to stick around if you like my style. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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